


Could be Worse

by NotTasha



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alien Planet, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 21:52:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4279245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotTasha/pseuds/NotTasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team checks out a "Marvel" in a vault on an alien world.  McKay gets hurt</p>
            </blockquote>





	Could be Worse

**Author's Note:**

> SEASON: Fourth Season - some time before "Missing"  
> DISCLAIMERS: The characters, Atlantis, etc, all belong to Sony, MGM, Gecko, Showtime, the Sci-Fi Channel.   
> DATE: Originally posted December 2, 2007.

CHAPTER 1: THE SIGNET RING

They stepped out of the Event Horizon and onto a carpet of leaves. The air was crisp. The sun was warm, in spite of the chill in the air. The ground was covered with yellows and oranges and reds – a crackling riot of color. Around them, trees shuddered in a breeze, whispering to one another.

Leaves sailed down from the canopy. Singularly, they wafted. In groups, they came down. Here and there, seedpods that resembled maple keys helicoptered.

A stone wall led off in one direction, and a vine of squash-like vegetables followed it. Something that might have been a pumpkin lolled near them. And just beyond the wall, another tree was laden with apple-like globes. Its branches hung low as if beckoning them to pick.

It was the perfect image of autumn, an explosion of color like a Disney imaging of the season, like a Hallmark card. It was all too pretty to be real, too right to be plausible anywhere outside of New England.

Sheppard stood on the verge of the Gate’s platform and breathed in deeply. He smiled at Teyla who returned the expression, and then turned to Ronon who was surveying the area warily as if he expected someone to leap out from behind the nearest tree.

McKay, between Teyla and Ronon, hunched as he checked his scanner, oblivious to the beauty of the day – or the possibility of any threat. He muttered as he punched controls and then nodded. “Yes, yes, I’m getting a power reading from that direction.” And he pointed off toward a path that followed the wall. He cocked his head, adding, “Seems rather low tech, but definitely a sign of civilization.”

“The Bankiers are an industrial society,” Teyla explained.

McKay harrumphed, not impressed, and lifted his head to look around. He moaned and muttered, “Great… just great. This place is going to severely mess with my allergies, I can tell you that right now.” He sniffed, then experimented with a sniffle. “You can just bet they have some form of ragweed here.”

“Kinda doubt it,” Sheppard said, as he stepped forward. Leaves crunched beneath his feet.

“It looks horrible to me,” McKay grumbled unhappily.

“Could be worse,” Sheppard stated. When McKay gave him a sharp look, Sheppard added with a grin, “Could be raining.”

“Oh! Oh! Don’t even start!” McKay snapped. “If all these leaves get wet, they’ll be a breeding ground for mold spores.” And he tried to sneeze at the mere thought of it.

Sheppard gazed toward the sky, seeing blue showing through the yellow and orange and red. “Looks kinda pretty to me,” he said, smiling at Rodney’s annoyance. “How about we find this city?”

Rodney sighed, saying, “I hope they’re advanced enough to have running water for a change. The last few people we met up with were a bit backward. No offence, Teyla.”

Teyla sighed at his statement and assured, “They are a civilized people.”

“Right,” Sheppard responded. He fished around in his pocket and pulled out a small object. “And this will get us in to see their head guy?” He held the item toward Teyla.

The Athosian smiled. “The Signet of Kaleden will gain us entry to all areas of Bankier.”

“We’ll get to see their extra special secret machine?” Sheppard reiterated.

“Yeah,” Rodney responded. “They’re very advanced.”

Teyla continued, undeterred, “You had best put it on your right index finger before we continue. They are a people who honor their history and this ring is a symbol of their heritage. It is said that the first settlers of this planet formed an inner circle and their descendants carry this signet.”

Sheppard stared at the ring for a moment. It was inscribed with the Ancient symbol for “Controller” and decorated with abstract designs of vines and leaves. It had been found long ago in one of the labs. Teyla had recognized it instantly, knowing of the Bankiers, and the item had been set aside until it was needed.

Word had recently reached them of an incredible ‘Marvel’ on the Bankier’s planet. Apparently the Marvel had been a part of their history for the past three generations, but they’d kept mum about it. It was only during a recent trading mission that a team from Atlantis had heard about it – a machine, an incredible machine of Ancient design.

Sheppard slid the ring onto his finger, feeling a little self conscious about the ornament.

With a disgusted snort, the Canadian said, “I don’t know why it’s him that gets to masquerade as royalty. Honestly, it makes more sense if I’m the one who…”

“Not royalty,” Ronon explained gruffly. “It must makes him… special.”

“Yeah… special,” Rodney echoed with a wicked smile.

Sheppard crinkled his brow and grumbled, “Hey! We’re just trying to get to that secret vault.” He lifted his hand, displaying the ring. “Besides, it fits me.” He smiled smugly at the scientist who frowned at him. “Come on, let’s get going, Mr. Pudgy Fingers. We’re on a deadline.”

Rodney looked crushed. “My fingers aren’t pudgy,” he moaned.

Carter had insisted that they spend only minimal time at the site, discover exactly what was contained in the vault, decide it if was worth further investigation, and return.

Apparently, Sam had grown tired of missed meetings, and teams that failed to return on time. It wasn’t as if they’d planned it for things to go haywire – sometimes, they just did. Of course, she’d had experience in how things could badly and knew the importance of keeping her teams on schedule.

Sheppard took one more glance around at the setting and started down the steps, taking the lead. McKay fell in behind, still studying the scanner. Teyla and Ronon trailed them.

They made their way through the autumnal wood, shuffling through the scattering of leaves, rustling and crunching. Sheppard recalled apple picking and pumpkin carving, and the smell of leaves burning in great heaps as lawns were cleared.

There was a strange odor in the air, but not the scent of burning leaves. Undoubtedly part of the industrialization of the people, he realized.

He moved easily, enjoying the brisk weather, even as he glanced to McKay and noted him drawing a collar tight to his chin. Rodney, realizing the scrutiny, gave him a disgusted look. Teyla and Ronon kept moving, their gazes raking the land around them.

After a short walk, the town of Bankier came into sight and they paused to check it out. The city consisted of a series of ugly, gray structures, with narrow streets running between. Utilitarian looking, the town still found a way to show off, as weather-dimmed, orange and yellow flags flew from poles that surrounded the huddle of buildings. At least, Sheppard thought, at least they tried.

The only remarkable structure was a glass pyramid. It was the top of a central building and was decorated with red banners. Teyla pointed it out as the seat of the Kaleden council.

Smokestacks rose from some buildings, belching blackness into the air. The gentle breeze blew at the dark clouds, sending them onward and away, drawing dark bands over the tops of the orange/gold trees in the distance.

Behind the main buildings, lonely looking apartments rose. Decked in yellows, their regular pattern of windows designated them as living quarters of some sort.

Sheppard frowned. “Huh,” he muttered. “Not the prettiest place I ever saw.”

Teyla nodded and stated, “They are known for their metalwork.”

“Yeah,” Ronon added. “They make tools, simple machines. That sort of thing.”

“Well,” Sheppard mumbled, “the place isn’t going to be appearing on the cover of Architectural Digest anytime soon.”

Rodney lifted his head and blinked at the place. “So what?” he started. “It isn’t pretty. Progress usually isn’t. I’m sure the town is set up in the most efficient way to use their resources. I suppose it’s practical.”

They strode onward, along the path that led them from the beauty of the forest and onto the packed dirt that surrounded unpleasant looking place. They moved with a forced casualness, that meant to imply that they were no threat – that they had come here as friends.

Workers moved about in the alleyways, dressed in various shades of yellow and orange, looking like trees moving in the breeze. The Bankiers walked without any great haste, loitering along the open space, like any workers on a break.

Stray leaves played about what appeared to be the main corridor of the city, and as they drew near, one of the workers lifted her head and gazed at them curiously. She looked toward one of the buildings, and then back in their direction. After seeming to come to a decision, she moved resolutely toward them.

“Have you come to trade?” she asked anxiously. “Traders need to go to the rear entrance to the city. No trading is allowed in the main thoroughfare.”

“We’ve come here to meet with someone in charge,” Sheppard told her. When Teyla cleared her throat, he turned toward her, raising an eyebrow. The Athosian dipped her head, indicating his hand. “Right.” Sheppard responded, and extended his right hand, showing off the ring.

“Oh!” the woman exclaimed and stepped back. “I beg your forgiveness. I didn’t know you were one of the Kaleden.” She bowed and made a curtsey and then stepped back again. “Forgive me. Your clothing was unfamiliar to me. I didn’t think that black…” She cut off her speech and bowed again.

Sheppard glanced to his companions to get their take on her response. All of them looked puzzled – one appeared to be a little annoyed. “Hey, no need for that,” Sheppard told her, snatching his hand away, and taking the ring out of sight. “We’re just here to see someone in charge.”

She smiled thankfully and brushed a bit of her hair under her kerchief. “I will inform my superior. He will send for someone who can speak to you.” She curtsied again, turned swiftly and was gone. The workers in the courtyard had come to a standstill during the conversation and were watching the scene unfolding before them, then slowly, a little like sleepwalkers, they went back about their business.

“Pleasant place,” McKay muttered. “Everyone seems happy happy.”

“Yeah,” Sheppard responded as he turned about, taking in the gray of the buildings and the people. And so, they waited.

Several minutes passed as they stood in the courtyard. Ronon stood hipshot, his blaster holstered, but his hand never seemed far from it. His eyes darted from one worker to the next as they scurried about.

Teyla watched as well, but with a different expression. The Bankiers seemed desperate in their attempts to NOT look at the strangers, and yet they couldn’t help themselves from stealing glances.

Rodney continued to fuss with his scanner, his attention focused on the screen. He’d hold up the device from time to time as he tracked a power signature, then give a little grunt in disgust as he figured out it wasn’t worth his trouble.

They waited.

Finally, a group of people hurried toward them through one of the narrow alleyways. They were colorful amidst the gray of the buildings – their yellows and oranges were bright, obviously of richer materials. The man in the lead was the orangest of the group, and donned a red stole over his shoulders.

“Oh,” the man with red shouted. “Oh, oh, oh!” He scuttled toward them, and made a quick bow as the others in his group gathered behind him. “I am Winfield of the Kaleden,” he announced. “And have come to welcome you to our humble town. I only hope that you will be happy amongst us.”

Sheppard answered the bow with a nod. “I’m Colonel Sheppard. This is Dr. McKay, Ronon and Teyla.” He gestured to the others as the mentioned them. “We’re… happy to be here,” he added lamely because he didn’t know what else to say.

Winfield smiled, toothily and his gaze strayed toward Sheppard’s hidden hand.

With a sigh, Sheppard lifted his hand and displayed the ring.

“It is the Signet of Kaleden!” Winfield called out, sounding ecstatic. “Brother! Welcome, welcome!” He extended his own hand to show off a similar ring – battered and dulled by the passage of time. “You are family!” he declared happily, smiling so wide it hurt to look at him.

Behind him, his followers made sounds of astonishment and awe.

“We are so few,” Winfield went on. “Only twelve. It is good to find a brother such as you, after being separated for so long.” And he lunged forward.

It was only a quick movement from Sheppard’s arm that kept Ronon from taking out the man. Winfield swept up Sheppard in an embrace, laughing and crying at the same time. “Brother!” he cried again.

“Yeah, brothers,” Sheppard said quietly, embarrassed by gesture and all it signified. “Good to see you…” and patted Winfield on the back.

“You’ve never been here before?” the Bankier asked.

“First time,” Sheppard told him. “Seems my part of the family… wandered.”

“And you have returned. Your family must have wandered long ago. We thought that there was only twelve.” Winfield smiled again, his eyes wet with tears.

“Yeah,” Sheppard replied, looking to his teammates. “Go figure.”

“Please, please, let us show you our town,” Winfield continued. “Let me take you to my house. Let me introduce the others in the Kaleden. They will be pleased – so pleased to meet you. There shall be a great feast that will last many days. There will be merriment and gaiety!”

“Hang on,” McKay said with a totally dissatisfied expression. “We don’t really need… gaiety. We just came to see the vault.”

Sheppard smirked at Rodney’s abrupt reply, but was rather pleased at his interruption nonetheless.

Rodney went on, “We were told that you had something ‘special’ that only certain people…” he glanced toward Sheppard’s ring, “And the people with them… were allowed to see. We’re on a schedule.”

Winfield looked at McKay incredulously, so Sheppard added, “Yeah, the vault. We’d like to see what’s inside. We were told that you had some sort of machine.”

The people behind Winfield put up a murmur, and the official nodded. “The vault! Of course! You’ve come to see Osoyoos, the Marvel of Bankier.”

“The Marvel,” Sheppard repeated, and glanced to McKay. “It’s a marvel.”

Rodney poked at his scanner a few more times, obviously annoyed at Winfield’s disregard for him. “I should hope so,” he murmured. “I’ll have to research the name when we get back to Atlantis. Osoyoos -- I wonder how they spell that.”

“Come, come and see!” Winfield scampered away and his retinue went with him, hurrying to keep up. With a sigh, Sheppard took after them with a half-hearted jog. The rest of the team followed.

They moved through the town, past buildings that loomed and glared down with heavy eyes. All around was the steady hum of equipment at work, and the quiet drone of the people who labored at the machines.

They moved along one alley and then down another with Winfield walking quickly in the lead. He twittered excitedly about one factory and then the next, telling of what was fabricated there and how efficiently each operation maintained its quotas.

“We exist on trade,” Winfield told them. “We have some crops on our planet, but we trade for most of our food and other necessary items. In exchange we create the comforts for their worlds, pots and pans, ovens and cleaning machines, cooking appliances, tools and devices of all kinds. We can make almost anything.”

Sheppard glanced to Teyla who gave him a nod. Apparently everyone in the Pegasus galaxy had a Bankier toaster oven, electric can opener and rug shampooer tucked away in a closet.

“Here,” Winfield said suddenly. “Here it is, brother.” And he stopped at the doorway of a building that looked pretty much like the rest of the structures that grumbled and rattled around them.

One of Winfield’s party opened the doors and they moved inside, into the din of working machinery. All around them devices clattered, ka-chunked and clunked. Belts whizzed over their heads, carrying devices from one end to the other. People huddled over equipment, or tottered about on catwalks. All about them, humans put together what looked like ugly little alarm clocks.

It was loud. The clangor of equipment filled the room, and McKay reached for his ears and called, “Are there any earplugs?”

Winfield just gestured, pointing to the far wall.

The workers paused only long enough to give their visitors a startled glance, surprised to see people of such importance grace their factory. Eyes followed Winfield, then took in the others. The moment passed and they dipped their heads back to their work.

The group moved, finding narrow passages between working machines. Winfield held his robes close as belts zipped past. Rodney, alarmed, tucked his arms against his body and hurried through until they reached an inner wall, and another door.

“It is here,” their host proclaimed, pulling a chain from within his shirt and finding a key.

The lock ground as he turned the key, and he shoved at the door. It opened with a groan, reveling darkness. Winfield grinned at them, looking excited enough to faint.

“It’s been a while since anyone’s been in there,” Sheppard surmised.

“It has been at least a year,” Winfield told them. “There is little reason to access the Marvel, and only the Kaleden are allowed to view it.”

“And people with the Kaleden,” McKay added snottily.

“If you are of his family,” Winfield told him. “You are related?” he asked.

Sheppard glanced to his crew, from McKay, to Teyla to Ronon. “Yeah,” he responded with little hesitation. “Family.”

McKay snorted in amusement.

Winfield smiled, happily. “Then we shall go.” And he walked into the dark room.

Sheppard exchanged a glance with Ronon, not entirely happy with the idea. He was about to turn on the light on his P90 when Winfield clicked something within the room and the place illuminated. The space was small, little more than a landing at the top of an enclosed stairway.

Winfield, just inside the space, smiled proudly. He opened his arms wide and declared, “Now, Colonel Sheppard, let me show you the Marvel!” And he turned to the stairs. “Come! You will be amazed.”

“Amazed,” Sheppard repeated, not impressed. Finally, when Sheppard moved forward, Winfield made a gleeful little movement, and swooped to the stairs, leading the way. With a sigh, Sheppard followed.

Rodney fell in line behind the colonel, moaning unappreciatively about the stairs. Teyla came in behind them.

Ronon stayed a moment longer, watching Winfield’s followers who remained outside of the door. He narrowed his glance at them, waiting.

One of them, perhaps realizing that something was required of him, said in a soft voice. “We shall not be accompanying you.”

“Why not?” the Satedan asked.

She looked anxious, glancing to the doorway, and then back at the big man. “It is not for us,” she replied. She touched the door as if she meant to close it.

Ronon glared and she stepped back.

“Ronon?” Sheppard’s voice came up from below. “You coming?”

Winfield’s voice joined his. “Really, we must keep moving. Don’t worry about the door, fellow. It opens from the inside. We just must make sure that the workers don’t find their way into the lower levels. No telling what sort of trouble they might get into.”

Ronon kept his gaze narrowed at the woman who held the door, but finally, he turned and started down the stairs after the others.

 

CHAPTER 2: DOWNWARD STAIRS

They strode downward, one level at a time, into the planet of the Bankiers. The clatter and noise of the factory floor grew fainter as they wended their way from one landing to another. There were no doorways leading off, just stairs leading to platforms that lead to more stairs. The flights wound around, enclosed with concrete-like walls, spiraling around an inner column.

After what seemed like far too long, Rodney finally piped up, “How far down is this thing?”

“It’s only ten levels,” Winfield responded from in front, his voice echoing.

“Ten?” Rodney squeaked. “How much further is that?”

“We’re nearly there,” Winfield assured as he hurried onward. “You will be pleased.” 

Sheppard glanced over his shoulder to McKay who was huffing behind him. Rodney just glared at him, and John smirked in response.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” McKay growled.

“Hey,” Sheppard returned. “Back home you’d have to sign up with LA Fitness or Gold’s Gym to use their stair climber. You’re getting your workout for free.”

The scowl deepened. “I wouldn’t call this ‘free’,” Rodney returned. “We’re going to have to go back up. I know I’m not going to enjoy that part of this trip, and you can bet it won’t be fun for you either.”

Sheppard gave a philosophical nod. True. McKay was right about most things.

They rounded one more turn on the stairway and suddenly were presented with a dark open space. “We’re here!” Winfield cried, and fluttered about, flipping some sort of switch, and then another. Banks of lights illuminated along the walls.

Ronon turned his head sharply, as if he’d seen something move, but then brought his head forward again as he regarded Winfield. Rodney was suddenly alert, looking around the room excitedly. Above them, the low rumble of machinery could still be heard, but muffled through the layers of earth above them.

“It is of Ancient construction, is it not?” Teyla asked, coming alongside Rodney.

The scientist nodded excitedly. “Yes, yes.” He moved to the wall, and ran his hand along one of the designs. “The rest of that was just… well shoddy industrial construction. This is…”

“Lovely?” Teyla completed.

“Well,” Rodney paused, unsure of how to complete that thought, “It is obviously created by a much more advanced people. Look at the details along the walls.”

Indeed the room was painstakingly ornamented. Just as with Atlantis, it was obvious that the Ancients took aesthetics into account with their designs. Where their home was all pleasing geometry, this room seemed to have a more natural theme. Seams crawled up the wall like vines, and leaf-like panels dotted the area. McKay took it in with a smile.

“Come,” Winfield said excitedly, confused by their delay. “We are there. We are here!” And he bustled forward. “Come!”

Rodney rolled his eyes and gestured to Sheppard. The colonel sighed and followed as Rodney pointed his scanner around the room, searching for power signatures. Teyla and Ronon fanned out, looking about into the dim corners.

Sheppard glanced toward them, wondering what had caught their attention. Both were wandering toward the walls as if they were stalking something. Suddenly Ronon stopped, and then caught Teyla’s attention. They smiled at each other and made their way back toward Sheppard.

“What were you looking for?” John asked.

“Saw something moving. Wanted to see what it was,” Ronon explained.

“And…?” Sheppard led off.

Ronon grinned and said quietly, “Lizards.”

Teyla smiled and nodded. “They are rather… cute when seen up close.”

Sheppard sighed and shook his head, then returned his attention to Winfield who was already in the next room. “It is here,” he called.

McKay was the first to pass the barrier. He moved only far enough to see what was hidden, and came to a dead halt, uttering a quiet and awestruck, “Wow!”

Frowning in wonder, Sheppard followed, and came to a stop alongside Rodney. His jaw dropped a little as he gazed in disbelief. Tall, and bronze in color, it stood firmly and silently against the wall.

“What is it?” Ronon asked as he came round the divider. “What?” He frowned as he caught sight of what had stalled the others. “I don’t…what is that thing?”

“A robot,” McKay responded, his voice light with amazement. “A giant robot!” And he sighed with delight.

 

CHAPTER 3: THE OSOYOOS

“A robot?” Sheppard stated, sounding a little alarmed.

Winfield held out his arms. “It is the Osoyoos!”

McKay rubbed his hands together, and looked at the robot with the greed of a child under the Christmas tree. “Oh, this is… incredible!”

It was tall, at least seven feet in height – wide at the shoulders, barrel-chested, legs like tree trunks. There was scrollwork and lovely details covering the big creation, and areas of some sort of transparent material that seemed destined to light up when the thing was activated.

The idea of activating the big thing gave Sheppard the willies. There were just too many things that could go wrong.

“Okay, McKay,” Sheppard said, his voice low and firm. “Let’s take this slow.”

“Sure, yeah, fine,” McKay responded quickly, his eyes focused on the metal creation.

“Robot?” Teyla echoed. “Is this a creature similar to the Replicators?”

“No,” McKay answered quickly.

“Yes,” Sheppard corrected.

“Okay,” McKay conceded. “They are similar in that they are both created by humans out of non-living materials. They’re basically computers, but otherwise entirely different.”

The explanation did not sit well with either the Athosian or the Satedan, and John already looked reticent about the whole thing.

“This is what you wanted to see?” Winfield asked, glancing from Sheppard to McKay, unsure of their reactions. “Is this, acceptable?” the official continued.

Ronon made a noise that sounded entirely negative.

“Yes, yes, yes,” McKay responded.

Winfield continued, “Do you wish to continue to examine the Marvel?”

“Yes,” McKay snapped. “Of course!”

Winfield waited for Sheppard to respond, and the colonel finally nodded. “Sure,” he drawled. He kept a close watch on McKay who seemed to be nearly dancing with glee. “Don’t go overboard, McKay,” he said under his breath.

“Very well,” Winfield stated. “I shall leave you here to continue your examination. Do you wish your family to remain with you?” And he glanced to Ronon, Teyla and then Rodney.

“They stay,” Sheppard remarked quickly.

Winfield nodded in response. “Very well, but they are welcome to join me at the dining hall of the Kaleden if they hunger. I can arrange for them to meet with other members if it would prove useful.”

“Maybe later,” Sheppard told him.

Winfield bowed to him and then bowed again before turning toward the exit and disappearing in a rustle of fabric.

They listened, hearing him climb the stairs.

“A robot!” McKay exclaimed once he was fairly certain that Winfield was out of range. “A giant robot!” 

The robot ‘face’ was meant to look human, with two dim 'eyes', a slash of a nose, and a long slit that formed a sort of a mouth. It was big and powerful- looking. It seemed, to Sheppard, altogether like every killer robot that he’d seen in the movies of his youth.

McKay, jittery with excitement, stepped toward it and Sheppard shot out a hand, “Wait,” he said.

Rodney fixed him with a disdainful look. “I’m just going to check it out,” he told him.

“Let’s not activate it until we know a bit more about it, okay?” Sheppard said quietly.

“Activate it?” McKay groaned. “Who said anything about that? I just want to… check it out.” He leaned toward it.

“I’m thinking we should be a bit prudent before we do anything that might put the giant killer robot into motion,” Sheppard told him.

“Killer robot?” McKay returned sharply. “Who said anything about it being a killer?”

Ronon folded his arms over his chest. “Might be a killer?” he asked and glared at the thing. “The Replicators were kinda bloodthirsty.”

“Yes, sure, but that was different,” McKay shot back. “They were sentient and composed of microscopic nanites and this is…not.”

“Can’t really tell if it is sentient or not, can we?” Sheppard pressed.

“Well, no…” McKay frowned. “I highly doubt that a machine constructed like this would have that level if self awareness. Of course, I can’t tell at this moment. Not until I access certain systems and go through its database.”

“And so you can’t tell me if it is ‘evil’ or not, can you?” Sheppard went on.

McKay nearly stomped a foot. “Of course I can’t tell yet!” he replied. “Just because it is a giant robot doesn’t immediately mean that it’s a killer. Size does not equate to evil,” and he threw Ronon a glance before returning his gaze to Sheppard. “You are judging without knowing anything.” McKay crossed his arms over his chest as he sported a withering expression. “That is just prejudice in its most vile form.”

“We’re going to be careful about this,” Sheppard went on. “Don’t activate anything.”

“Oh, come on!” McKay returned. “Don’t let a lifetime of bad creature features make you turn your back on this discovery. It’s a robot -- a great big fabulous robot! The Ancients designed it,” McKay cried, his voice high as he pointed to it. “They wouldn’t make something dangerous, now would they?” He winced, and his arm dropped as he thought. “Oh,” he muttered. “Yeah. Replicators, nanovirus…”

“That ascension device that nearly killed you,” Sheppard added.

McKay gave him a curious look at that inclusion, but nodded and sighed.

“Just keep it easy today,” Sheppard insisted. “We’re here to check things out. We can come back later with a specialized team when we know what we’re looking at. You probably have some robot specialists, don’t you?”

With a groan, McKay said, “Dr. Doherty.” And then added, “But I’ll be returning with her team, that’s for certain. Just because she spent his life studying robotics, their design, technology, manufacture and innovation, doesn’t mean she gets first crack at the thing.”

“We go slowly,” Sheppard told him.

McKay nodded, and started setting up his laptop. “Sure, sure,” he responded as he jacked into the system. “Let me have a look around.” And he started typing.

 

CHAPTER 4: THE VAULT

Time moved slowly as McKay checked the systems of the sleeping giant. For a time, he typed rapidly, but the speed slacked off quickly, changing to a tentative sound. He’d mutter and bemoan his lack of progress.

“That makes no sense,” he grumbled, poking again at the keyboard.

“What’s wrong?” Sheppard responded.

“I should have been able to access the main database by now.” He sighed and rubbed at his chin. “Should have been able to pull up the basic command system at least.”

Sheppard shrugged. “Probably better this way. No telling what you could set off without meaning to.”

McKay scowled. “I told you that I am keeping far from any systems that might cause a system activation.”

“Still…” Sheppard responded and shrugged. He turned to Ronon and watched as he whacked at a couple of lizards with a stick that he’d found somewhere. The little reptiles kept poking their snouts out at them. They’d dart away as soon as they were discovered, disappearing into the crevices and crannies of the room.

They were small creatures, candy striped in green and purple, with little red tongues that flicked. They watched with curious greenish eyes, until Ronon swiped at them, and they disappeared in a flash.

Dex missed again, and drew his blaster.

“Ronon,” Sheppard barked, cutting his movement short. “Why don’t you and Teyla head back to the surface and see if you can find anyone who can give us information on this thing? Winfield said he’d round up some folks for us.” He inclined his head toward the big robot. “Since, McKay isn’t getting anywhere.”

“It’s not for lack of trying!” Rodney spat out.

“Of course, if you could just wrap up this preliminary investigation, we could be going,” Sheppard stated.

“Oh! Oh!” McKay suddenly exclaimed. “I think I have something here!”

Sheppard frowned, and McKay instantly deflated. 

“False alarm,” he said with a groan.

Ronon still glared at the hole where the little lizard had disappeared. He raised his blaster toward it.

Teyla smiled. “Meeting with members of the Kaleden would be helpful.” And she touched Ronon’s arm as she moved past him.

Ronon seemed to weigh his options for a moment, but finally holstered his blaster and let his lizard whacking stick fall to the ground with a clatter. “Yeah, sure.”

“We will check in when we discover any useful information,” Teyla commented, indicating her radio.

“We’ll do the same,” Sheppard responded, glancing to McKay. “If we find anything…”

“Hey!” McKay yelped. “I’m doing the best I can. This whole system seems to be locked down.”

“For good reason, probably,” Sheppard mumbled.

Teyla smiled and said, “We will stay in contact,” and the two moved toward the back of the room, then their footsteps could be heard on the stairs.

John listened until the sound of their footfalls disappeared into the darkness and he turned toward Rodney. The scientist still labored near the hulking automaton, clicking away at his laptop and looking frustrated as hell.

With a sigh, Sheppard realized he was rather glad. He’d seen enough movies to know that giant robots were only trouble, and the thought of activating the thing in this cramped room filled him with a strange anxiety.

It was just a bad idea. And if Rodney was being blocked, so be it. If there were lucky, the scientist would tire and give up soon. He hoped Ronon and Teyla discovered something quickly. A glance at his watch reminded him that there were a little more than three hours left before they were to check in with Atlantis.

“Maybe it’s time we called it a day?” Sheppard asked. “Seeing as we’ve managed to do mostly nothing since we found this thing. We should catch up with Ronon and Teyla. They’re probably getting some information. And we can check the databases back home, then send Doherty back with people more prepared to deal with giant killer robots.”

McKay grumbled, “This is ludicrous! I should have been able to access the database without…” He brightened a little, and snapped his fingers. “If I apply a low level of power to the system, it will allow me to access the…”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, McKay,” Sheppard replied.

“It’s totally safe,” McKay assured. “It will be hardly enough power to keep a watch going. Just enough to allow me to access some of its systems so I can pull up a basic schematic or find its database. I can, at least, have some inkling of what this thing is for.”

Sheppard shook his head slowly. “I’d rather not risk it,” he uttered.

“It won’t be enough power for him to move a pinky,” McKay countered. “Come on, Colonel. We have to come away with something! And this device … he’s incredible! If I could just find out what he’s all about…”

“He?”

“Well, he doesn’t look much like a ‘she’ does he?”

Sheppard grimaced a little.

“I mean a fembot might have been interesting,” McKay went on. "Even that robot chick from 'Metropolis' was kinda hot."

“Fine,” Sheppard pronounced. “Give it enough juice to get a look around, but the moment you see any sign of this thing trying to power up, you shut the thing down. You got that?”

“Yes, yes, got it. What’s the problem?” McKay looked at him curiously. “This ‘robot fear’ of yours isn’t like the ‘clown’ thing is it? I mean, Coulrophobia is one thing, but Grimwade's Syndrome is altogether preposterous.”

“What are you talking about?”

McKay sighed, and muttered, “Not much of a Doctor Who fan are you?”

“Not so much.”

“Robotphobia!” McKay banged a screwdriver on the metal casing of the robot. “He’s not going to do anything. He’s benign.”

“You don’t know what it was created for. Maybe it was designed for killing people.”

McKay turned sharply toward Sheppard, holding the screwdriver tightly in his hand. His mouth clenched and he looked as if he wanted to shout, but instead, he sighed and said, “It’s only going to be enough power to see if there’s anything stored in his systems. He won’t even wake up.”

Sheppard paused, and finally nodded, signaling McKay that he could continue.

Rodney smiled and returned to his work, pausing only long enough to knock one of the reptiles off the top of his laptop screen. “These stupid lizards are everywhere,” he muttered unhappily.

Yeah, Sheppard said with a sigh, flipping one head over tail with the toe of his boot. He was a little sad that he’d sent Ronon away. The cute little creatures were getting bolder now that the Satedan was gone. He kicked another that was getting too close.

“Maybe they’re looking for something to eat,” McKay said after a moment. “There doesn’t seem to be anything in here for them. Do you think they’d like a cookie from an MRE?”

“McKay,” Sheppard grumbled. “Just finish your experiment and let’s get out of here.”

“Right, right,” McKay returned as he punched a few keys on the laptop. He smiled broadly as he ‘juiced’ the systems. “Ah!” he cried. “Oh yes, he’s loaded with information.”

“Are you sure you’re keeping it from activating? I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”

“He’s fine! Now, I’ll start downloading now… and… huh?”

“What?” Sheppard responded, not liking the sound of that.

“It has quite a bit of power in its reserves.” Rodney quickly picked up his scanner. “There, it’s registering now. Wasn’t before. That’s odd.”

“I don’t like odd, McKay.”

“You and me both. Must be in a standby mode.”

“You didn’t just activate it?”

“No, I’m just trying to see more of what’s inside him.” He frowned. “Ah crap!”

“What?”

“I lost it. The connection,” McKay whined and went back to typing, “At least I was able to download something,” he said petulantly. “Ha! Docherty will be so jealous. Imagine if we could create our own … robotmen. We could have a whole army of them.”

Sheppard crossed his arms over his chest. “The Replicators come to mind.”

McKay shook his head. “This big fella isn’t going to hurt anyone, are you?” And he settled a hand at the Osoyoos’ shoulder. Immediately, he fluttered his hand away, crying out a quiet, “Ow!”

Sheppard leapt to his feet. “What?” he called. “What did it do?”

“Nothing… I…” McKay sucked at his hand. “It was one of those stupid lizards. Son of a bitch bit me.”

Sheppard made a quick circuit of the robotman and caught sight of one of the striped lizards as it skittered across the floor.

“So stupid!” McKay grumbled, still fluttering his hand. “I didn’t see it there. I must have scared it or something. Damn it!” His eyes followed the direction that the lizard had taken. "I hope I didn't hurt it."

“Let me see,” Sheppard said extending a hand.

McKay regarded his own hand a moment; frowning and then extended it to let Sheppard see the bite. “Does it look infected?”

Sheppard gave McKay a fixed look at that question, then asked, “Does it hurt?”

“Of course it hurts! It’s a bite, isn’t it?” But Rodney paused as he considered, and then added, “Okay not so much now. But when that thing snapped at me, it really hurt.”

Sheppard regarded the little red mark between Rodney’s forefinger and thumb as he reached into a vest pocket. “I’ll put some antibiotic on it,” Sheppard told him. “Just in case.”

“Oh! Better use some hydrocortisone or something,” McKay said worriedly as he felt about for his epi-pen. “If I start gasping and clawing at my throat…”

“Yeah,” Sheppard cut him off as he drew out his little first aid kit and pulled out a couple of packets. “Hold still.” He studied the mark for a moment, then declared, “It’s not much of anything.” And he tore open the antibiotic packet with his teeth.

“I might be allergic,” Rodney cried, touching his free hand to his neck. “Am I getting hives? Are you seeing any swelling?”

“Nah,” Sheppard responded as he smeared a daub of the antibiotic over the little bite wound.

“My eyes might start closing up. If I start wheezing…”

“I’ll keep an eye on you,” the colonel promised. “Look, it hardly broke the skin and I don’t see any swelling around it. You’d be having some sort of reaction from it by now, wouldn’t you?”

Rodney sniffled and shrugged. “Probably.”

“And you said that it didn’t hurt any more.”

Rodney seemed to reflect on this fact a moment and then nodded.

Finished with administering the antibiotic ointment, stated, “You won’t even need a band aid. It’s probably more frightened of you than you are of it,” Sheppard reasoned.

“Right,” McKay harrumphed, and then went back to his laptop. Rodney clenched his hand as his gaze darted about.

John sighed and settled back to wait, hoping they’d be done soon.

CHAPTER 5: THE KALEDEN

Teyla and Ronon were settled at a table in the glass pyramid. Winfield had explained that some believed the structure imbued any inhabitants with extra energy. Fruit wasn’t supposed to rot, wine gained deeper notes, bread refused to go stale, humans could feel energy flow through them if they stood directly beneath the point. But Winfield shrugged and said confidentially that it was all rubbish. And he smiled, almost apologetically.

From here, they had a clear view of the autumnal countryside and the tall smokestacks around them. Leaves fluttered and fled along the angled windows, getting stuck in the cracks. Wind hissed and moaned.

They waited with Winfield, and tried to contact Sheppard and Rodney. Frustratingly, the radios failed to reach them.

“Must be because they’re underground,” Ronon said with a shrug.

“Or it could be the equipment around us.” Teyla shook her head and settled the radio on the table. "Or the pyramid?"

"Doubtful," Winfield responded and, intrigued, pointed to the device. “The pyramid, I think, is mostly a means of setting the Kaleden apart from the rest of the Bankiers." He sighed, a little sadly, and then asked, "That… thing… You can talk into it? Are they supposed to answer?”

“Yeah,” Ronon responded. “Supposed to.”

Their host looked like he wanted to say more, but at that moment, other Bankiers entered the room. Winfield stood quickly and introduced two of the newcomers. “This is Keremeos, she is the supervisor over the building and the vault below it.”

She was an older woman, with graying hair, and double chins. Her face was fixed in a scowl and she sat down without saying a word. She hardly looked at them.

A withered-looking man came next, followed by a small group of yellow-dressed helpers, laden with books and papers. Winfield introduced the man as Solly, the historian. Solly sniffed and snorted into a handkerchief, annoyed about being summoned, but then he spotted Teyla and he smiled.

The servants carefully arranged the books near the historian and exited in a rush.

The newcomers looked at the others seated at the table, showing distain for the visitors and for Winfield as well. Perhaps it was Winfield's youth – perhaps he was of a lesser family. Keremeos and Solly wore more red than their host, and their raiment was finer.

Both sat with their hands folded on the table, allowing their rings to be shown off. Winfield looked a little clumsy as he sat down with them, as if he wasn’t used to such things, and fixed his hands to look like theirs.

Once Winfield was properly seated, Keremeos spoke. “You are not of the Kaleden.” Her voice filled with distain.

“We are of a Kaleden family,” Teyla responded calmly.

Solly tugged one of the big books close to him. “You are not of the known families,” he declared. “All families are listed here.” He flipped pages, showing off the inscribed family trees that seemed to go back only a few generations. “Here are our known families,” Solly stated, “Even those that have been in dispute.” And he gave Winfield a disdainful look before turning to Teyla and smiling a little lecherously. "But sometimes," he said, there is room for new...members."

Ronon suppressed a growl.

Winfield cleared his throat nervously and said, “They are here to learn more about the Osoyoos and the history of the Bankiers on this planet.”

Solly touched another book. “Here is all the information we have regarding the Osoyoos,” he said in a wispy voice. “The Marvel has existed before time began.”

Keremeos corrected, “The creation date of the Osoyoos is unknown.”

“Same thing,” Solly said with hurt in his voice.

“It was found on this planet,” Winfield added, “After our people arrived.”

“That is unimportant,” Keremeos snapped, narrowing her eyes at Winfield.

“This is our planet,” Solly added. “And has been for many generations.”

Teyla asked, “Has the Osoyoos ever moved, ever walked?”

Keremeos shook her head. “The Marvel cannot. It has stood silently in my building. That is where it belongs.”

“Since the beginning of history, it has waited,” Solly added. 

“It hasn't moved for as long as we've known about it,” Winfield added quietly.

"So you don't know how to turn it on?" Ronon clarified.

"I don't think it's possible," Winfield responded.

Teyla cleared her throat and asked, “Does anyone know why the Osoyoos was created? What is its purpose?”

“It was created in the image of the Ancestors,” Keremeos continued. “It is of their stature and might.”

Teyla and Ronon exchanged a glance, wondering how these people imagined the Ancestors. It wasn’t pretty."

“The Ancestors were the greatest of all beings,” Solly added. “The Osoyoos was created to celebrate their superiority over the common people. And once the Marvel was completed, it was hidden from the eyes of people who did not deserve to see it. Only the families of the Kaleden are allowed a viewing.” He displayed his ring. “We are the favored of the Ancestors.”

Ronon and Teyla both grimaced at these words.

“Excuse me,” Winfield interrupted. “There are many stories that are important to the Bankiers. Some, I believe are just stories,” the words were said timidly as he gazed at the other two. “It was told to me, by my father and grandfather, that the Bankiers were ousted from their homeworld, and found a new home here,” Winfield continued doggedly.

“Your family is born of the workers, and of an occupation too foul to be spoken of in the company of a true Kaleden,” Keremeos continued. “Your inclusion among us is disputed.”

Winfield fingered the ring on his hand. “My grandfather was awarded the signet.”

“Only because the original family had died out.” Solly lifted his pointed head and stated, “We will discuss your family’s inclusion at our next council. Perhaps it is time to reduce our number to eleven, unless of course, Colonel Sheppard would be our twelfth?”

“This is not helpful,” Teyla cut in. “We are searching for information on the Osoyoos.”

Solly frowned deeply, creating ravines across his face, and poked a stick-like finger at one book. “All that is important is recorded here!”

Winfield sighed quietly, then spoke to Solly, “Tell them how the Marvel was discovered.”

The historian glared at Winfield, as if annoyed anyone dared to order him about. He cleared his throat roughly and started thumbing through the pages of one particularly thick book, licking at his fingers with each leaf turned. Keremeos looked pained as she sat back, and Winfield just looked tired. Teyla and Ronon waited.

“Here it is…” Solly declared, reaching the beginning of a chapter. The letters scurried across the page like mouse tracks. “It was during the black time that the greatest of discoveries was heralded,” he read, his voice reedy. “-- during the days of the sickness and despair when all was thought lost for the mighty of Bankier. Our forefathers, heady with their great intelligence, explored the mystifying Pit of Darkness beneath Building 12. It was the wearers of the Kaleden who found the site, and deeply into the ground they searched to escape the skahas, the horrible menace of our home. Wise were the Kaleden, for they discovered the signet rings which told everyone that the Pit of Darkness was a creation of the Ancestors. It was on the twelfth day, as they dug into the soil of planet that their pickaxes and shovels did contact the vault of the Ancestors, long buried. In was discovered to be a great vault. A cheer was heard throughout the land and the Kaleden decided the means of entry. Their wisdom was rewarded and the vault was opened. The Osoyoos was discovered and Kaleden did look upon it with admiration. For many days our people did celebrate this finding and there was rejoicing, for it was hoped that means of escaping the menace was at hand, for many were the sick and many the dying by the skahas.”

Teyla leaned forward, resting a hand on top of Solly’s to quiet him. The historian looked up in surprise, and then smiled.

“What is this skaha?” she asked quietly.

Solly, momentarily flustered by the touch, said nothing.

Keremeos groaned and rolled her eyes. “The skaha is the menace!” she repeated. “Everyone knows about the menace and the death the skahas brought to us.”

“The vault did not protect the people as was hoped,” Winfield reminded. “The Osoyoos did not provide what was hoped for.”

“We know this, Winfield! The menace is gone,” Solly interjected, finally finding his voice. “Long gone. The wisdom of the Kaleden freed us.” He turned back to Teyla and Ronon. “It was the discovery of the Osoyoos that gave us the encouragement to persevere and we beat back the menace. All rejoice at the discovery of the Osoyoos!”

“The Osoyoos inspires us,” Keremeos included. “It reminds us that the Ancestors survived far worse than what we faced. If the Ancestors might live on, than so shall we. We look upon the Osoyoos and remember.”

Solly frowned. “If you let me continue, the menace was beaten back as our spirits soared.” His voice rose in exhalation. “We defeated the horrible skahas, and the menace was destroyed.”

“Hail the Kaleden for saving us all!” Keremeos called in a haughty voice, showing off her signet ring.

“Why didn’t just you leave the planet when you were having all this trouble?” Ronon asked.

Winfield blinked at him, and then said, “At that point, we didn’t know where to go. We had trading partners who purchased our goods, but none would have us. The skahas nearly destroyed our people. If it wasn’t for the bravery of a few…”

“The wisdom of the Kaleden,” Keremeos included. “Our forefathers saved us and we, the carriers of the signet, continue to watch over our people.”

Teyla eyed Keremeos and Solly. She turned her attention to Winfield, wishing the younger Kaleden hadn’t bothered to bring in the other two. “Winfield, explain the skaha to us,” Teyla demanded.

Winfield looked embarrassed and then said softly, “They are creatures of poison and death that destroyed all that they touched. There was a time when they hurt many of our people, first by paralyzing and then, for those who did not find treatment, death followed.” He opened his hands saying, “They are…”

Solly broke in, declaring, “… creatures that live in shadow and are most horrible to look upon. They look like death itself, and forever shall the colors of green and purple be shunned by the Bankiers. Until the end of time, all of the Bankiers shall go about in red and orange and yellow.”

“Green and purple?” Teyla asked, standing up suddenly. “The creatures… they are reptiles?” She held out her hands, approximating the size of the reptiles that they had seen.

Winfield nodded, “Yes, they are a type of reptile that function well in cool places. They are small and quick and deadly."

“Enough, Winfield!” Keremeos cut him off. “Let us not speak of this vulgarity!”

But Teyla and Ronon were already on their feet. Chairs clattered to the ground in their haste and Ronon dashed the room. The Satedan activated his radio and started calling for Sheppard to respond.

Winfield stepped in front of Teyla, halting her for only a moment. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

“Those lizards, your ‘menace’,” she growled. “They are all throughout the vault. Our friends are in there with them.” And she pushed past the official to follow Ronon as the autumn leaves swirled around the windows. 

CHAPTER 6: UPWARD STAIRS

“Okay, okay…” McKay said softly as he stopped and lifted his hands from the keyboard.

“What?” Sheppard returned. The tone of McKay’s voice brought him to attention. “You didn’t accidentally activate…”

“I haven’t done anything!” Rodney snapped. “It’s just…” He paused, looking frustrated and concerned. “I think my hand is a bit numb.” Rodney stared at the hand in wonder and flexed it.

Sheppard scrutinized the scientist carefully, searching for telltale signs of an allergic reaction, because it’d be just their luck that McKay would have an issue with cute little candy-striped lizards. After verifying that McKay looked normal (or at least as normal as was usual), he stated, “You’re probably just tired."

McKay looked at him as if he'd grown another head.

Trying again, Sheppard said,”Maybe you’re getting carpal tunnel.”

McKay's jaw dropped. “Oh! Don’t even joke about that! There was a year in graduate school when I was sure that I had it. I went about in splints on both wrists and… damn,” Rodney paused as he clenched and unclenched his hand. “Seriously, I’m losing feeling. My fingers hardly have any sensation. It’s weird.” He tried to massage them with his other hand, but frowned all the more.

“It’s probably nothing,” Sheppard assured.

“Yeah,” Rodney responded, his face bleak for a moment, but then replaced the expression of one of forced hopefulness. “Okay, yeah… my hands need a rest, right? I mean, I’ve been pulling late nights all week… well, all year.”

“That’s probably it,” Sheppard replied, drawing nearer.

“Okay, this is… weird.” Trying not to look alarmed, Rodney stated, “It’s in this hand, too. It’s… I’m not kidding. My fingers don’t have any feeling in them.” McKay had stopped trying to wring his hands, and was now holding them out in front of himself. “I can almost feel it creeping to my wrists.” And he looked up at Sheppard, fear touching his eyes.

Sheppard moved quickly, and grabbed McKay’s injured hand. The area around the bite seemed normal, but Rodney’s hand was unnaturally cold. John pulled his knife from its sheath.

McKay’s eyes went wide and he jerked his hand, trying to pull it loose. “Leave the bite alone!” he cried. “It doesn’t need to be cut out or anything! It’s not that big a deal. I can handle the numbness. I was just…”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Sheppard told him. Carefully, he pressed the tip of the knife to the back of McKay’s hand, using the back of the blade so that the sharp edge didn’t pierce the skin.

“Stop it!” McKay insisted, still pulling.

Sheppard held him firm, watching as the skin indented beneath the blade. “Do you feel that?” he asked.

“No… yes… yes…. I…” McKay stopped struggling, and watched in a morbid fascination as the point pressed against his skin. He blinked in confusion and then looked up to Sheppard. He shook his head.

Sheppard pulled back the knife and sheathed it in one quick move. “We’re going,” he declared.

“Let me just get my data.” Rodney reached out for his laptop, but fumbled it. Sheppard jerked him away.

“Now!” Sheppard declared, shoving McKay toward the exit. He touched his radio, and shouted, “Teyla, Ronon, we’re headed toward the Gate. Something’s happened. You need to find information on those lizards. Do you copy?”

“Wait,” McKay tried to dig in his heels and managed to snag his pack, getting it over one arm. “It’s not that big a deal, right? Let me at least shut down the computer and take it with me. I’ve downloaded some information and…”

But Sheppard was relentless, and plowed a shoulder into the back of the scientist, propelling him to the stairway. “Teyla! Ronon! Respond!”

The radio remained silent. “Damn it,” John swore.

“It’s not that bad,” McKay’s voice quavered. “Really, my hands are just a bit numb. It’ll be fine. I probably just have to shake them a bit.” And he flailed his hands about.

“Yeah, I know…it’s nothing,” Sheppard said between his teeth. “But let’s let Keller decide that. Now, get moving. We’ll come back for the laptop.”

“Okay… okay. I’m moving.” McKay gave up on moving his hands when one hit the side of the stairway. He gazed at the hand that should have been throbbing, then, clutched it to his chest. Sheppard grabbed him by the elbow and came alongside him.

They started moving up the stairway. Sheppard kept trying his radio, not wanting to be worried. This was probably nothing. Just get McKay back to Atlantis and let Keller have at him. The numbness was probably just fatigue. It wasn’t necessarily a reaction to the lizard's – he hated to consider the word ‘venom’. He hurried Rodney, forcing him up the steps.

The ten flights of stairs downward seemed considerably longer when headed up. “Ronon? Teyla?” he continued to call over the radio. There was no reply.

McKay huffed as he ran alongside the colonel. “Hey, can we slow it down a bit?” he gasped. “Seriously, I’m not made for this sort of thing.”

“Keep moving,” Sheppard demanded. With each flight of stairs, the din of the machinery above them became louder. The equipment rattled and groaned, and Sheppard set his mouth in a thin line, glad for the return of the noise – the louder the clatter, the closer they were to getting out. They made it to another landing, and turning in a circle around the central core of the stairway. More stairs awaited them.

He gave up on reaching Ronon and Teyla, and focused on keeping McKay moving upward -- trying to ignore the alarms going off in his head. He glanced to Rodney’s hands, noting how they just sort of 'hung' from McKay's wrists. Everything was fine, he reminded himself. Just get back to Atlantis, and have Keller tell him that he panicked about nothing.

Then, suddenly, Rodney stumbled and would have fallen face first if Sheppard didn’t have a grip on his arm. “My toe caught on the ledge,” Rodney explained. Gasping, McKay struggled to get his feet beneath him. His eyes were wide with fear as he whispered, “I can’t… my feet… I don’t think I can feel them anymore.”

Sheppard gave him another jerk to get him fully upright and shoved him with more urgency – up, up the stairway, they moved as quickly as they could. Damn it! Goddamn it!

Another flight surmounted, another turn, and they kept moving, Sheppard slightly in front, dragging McKay up the stairs with him. Just keep moving, just keep going. John kept his head half turned, keeping an eye on McKay, trying not to be concerned about every stumbling step.

The noise above increased – machines clattering and banging above them, so loud after the muffled hum of the lowest level. Sheppard turned quickly, and rounded another landing – and slammed face first into an unyielding mass that had been moving just as quickly down the stairs.   
888888888888888888  
Teyla was unable to stop herself as Ronon came to a crashing halt. She tried to spin around him, but was knocked her off her feet. She fell hard onto the stairway.

Momentarily stunned, Teyla fought to get her bearings. Ronon was already moving again, heading downward. She sat up and peered down the flight of stairs. Rodney and John were sprawled at the bottom.

“John,” she called, and was relieved to see both were moving, and appeared to be well but maybe a little addled.

“Sheppard!” the Satedan called as he reached the others.

Sheppard was blinking owlishly, hunching his shoulders in pain and rubbing his head. “Ow…” he groaned. “How… what the hell was that? A train? A Mac truck?”

“Me,” Ronon stated as he reached them. “You should watch where you’re going.”

“You and me both,” Sheppard said, shaking his head to clear it.

Dex grabbed Sheppard’s hand and pulled him roughly to his feet. “We got to go. There’s trouble. Radios couldn’t reach you.”

Sheppard staggered a moment, keeping a hold on Ronon. “Yeah… wow… hang on a minute… I…” Obviously still stunned, he ran a hand across his head. “Damn… damn.”

Teyla hunched down beside McKay, and said urgently, “Rodney, we must leave this place. It is unsafe.” She reached out a hand to clasp his and was surprised by the chill of his skin and the fact that he did nothing to hold onto her. “The reptiles that we encountered are…”

Something snapped alive in Sheppard, and he shook off his stupor. “Rodney? Hey, you okay?”

Rodney closed his eyes a moment and opened them. “Is everything supposed to be swimming? I mean, is the stairway spinning to you?”

Teyla looked the scientist over quickly. “Has he been injured?”

Sheppard cast a glance at Dex. “One of those lizards bit him.”

“Are you certain?” Teyla asked, alarm in her voice.

Sheppard looked shamefaced. “It didn’t look like much of anything at first, but…”

“My hands!” McKay interjected. “Totally going numb…I…” He held up his hands and grimaced as if he was straining to work them. The hands remained still. “I need my hands,” he squeaked. His expression looked lost as he stated forlornly, “This is so not good.”

Grimacing, Sheppard asked, “You found out something about those lizards? How bad?”

“We don’t know a whole lot,” Ronon stated, his eyes on McKay. “They are called skaha. Winfield said something about paralysis and…” he let the sentence trail off as he changed his glace to Sheppard. Their eyes met and Sheppard offered a short nod in understanding.

“Come on, Rodney,” Sheppard said, offering a hand. “We’re going.”

Ronon moved in, grabbing McKay’s free arm and helping to get him to his feet. McKay didn’t have time to find his balance, and his feet fought clumsily for purchase, but Ronon was already half-dragging him up the stairs. With only so much room in the stairway, Sheppard had to fall behind.

“John,” Teyla called.

He paused in his pursuit of Ronon and Rodney, and looked to the Athosian. She could see the worry in his eyes.

She let the other two gain a flight before speaking in a whisper, “Is he in any discomfort?”

Sheppard jerked his shoulders in an angry shrug. “I don’t think so. He says he’s losing feeling in his hands and feet. Other than that, I think he’s just scared, and probably banged up from that fall.” Sheppard rolled a shoulder and winced. “He’s probably not feeling it though so…I guess it could be worse.”

Teyla could not form a response.

So, Sheppard said softly, “I take it this won’t end well.”

Rodney, Teyla realized, was not the only one who is frightened. “We will return to Atlantis and all will be well.”

“Yeah,” Sheppard drawled. “That’s what I keep telling him.”

She nodded sharply and the two followed the others up the last levels of the stairway. Strangely, the constant roar of equipment seemed to lessen. The machinery’s clattering became less omnipresent, it quieted and then nearly stopped. Teyla glanced to Sheppard, not understanding – then, there was a loud BANG that rang through the stairway.

Ronon, ahead of them, picked up his pace, nearly carrying McKay as he hurried up the last staircases. Sheppard and Teyla stayed directly behind him, running, rushing to the top.

Something wailed and screeched above them, it sounded like rending metal, as if something huge was being moved above their heads, scraping the floor and vibrating the stairwell. Ronon paused, hanging onto McKay as the walls rattled.

“What's happening?” he asked, half turning to Sheppard.

“Keep moving,” Sheppard ordered – and Ronon obeyed, hauling McKay along with him.

They rounded another corner, and rushed up the last flight to the closed metal door that marked the exit.

Keeping a tight grip on McKay, Ronon gripped the knob and tried to force the door open, but it refused to give. He tried again, pressing his weight into it, but it remained stubbornly shut.

Ronon battered the door with his fist, shouting obscenities to whomever might be on the other side, but the raucous factory was silent beyond that metal shield. “Open the door!” Ronon bawled. “Unlock it! Now!”

But no one came and the door remained shut. Teyla squeezed in beside Ronon and Rodney, forcing her way to the lock. She tried it as well, but something blocked the door.

Sadly, she turned back to Sheppard, not wanting to impart the bad news – but it was obvious to all of them.

McKay sighed loudly as he stared at his hands. He let his head dip as he muttered, “Oh, I am so screwed…”

CHAPTER 7: TRAPPED

Sheppard made his way back to the landing where they’d settled Rodney. He sat with his back against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him and his hands in his lap. He looked as if he were – stopped, still, strangely quiet. His stark blue eyes were on Ronon as the Satedan pounded on the door again. 

It seemed that he was getting worse by the minute, unable to stand any longer, they’d propped him in the corner to keep him comfortable.

“The Bankiers are not going to let us out,” Rodney stated. 

“Doesn’t look like it,” Sheppard grumbled. “We’ll keep trying.”

“It’s not getting us anywhere,” McKay commented.

Ronon snarled, twisting at the handle again. “I’ll get us out!” His knuckles were bloodied and bruised from his attempts to smash open the door, and he hadn’t stopped trying.

The door was warped, buckled from where Ronon had fired on it repeatedly with the blaster. He’d fired and fired until the gun became hot and then finally sputtered and failed. A hole was carved into the door, deep enough to break through the metal, but obviously something had been placed beyond the door, blocking them in and creating a surface too deep to burn through. A couple dozen Bankiers must have moved that barricade in place.

Bastards, Sheppard thought – rat bastards.

They’d been trapped. And all Ronon had managed to do, in the end, was drain the power from his weapon and create a big gooey hole in the door, a hole that didn’t go all the way through.

“There should be another way out,” Ronon stated, hopefully, glancing to where Sheppard stood near McKay. His stance illustrated his desire to move, to try anything.

Teyla, who stood a few steps below Dex, shook her head. “We have seen no other exits,” she stated solemnly. “And the stories of the Bankiers indicate that there was only one entrance to the vault.”

“Why the hell did they do this?” Sheppard spat out. “What could they possibly gain by shutting us in here?”

Teyla looked morose as she stated, “I believe that Ronon and I are the reason this happened.” She turned her glance on Rodney. “We told them that we had seen the lizards, the skahas, in the vault. The Bankiers seemed very concerned.”

“Cowards,” Ronon added. “They sealed us in to keep the reptiles from getting out!” And he pounded again on the door, viciously assaulting the heavy surface. The stairway rang with his ferocity.

McKay watched him, just tilting his head slightly, his expression that of a trapped animal. Ronon’s attempts continued to do nothing, and finally, when he paused, McKay whined, “We’re going to die here.”

“No, we’re not!” Sheppard’s responded quickly. “We are getting out! Come hell or high water, we’re getting out!”

“Sure looks like we’re making progress,” Rodney muttered as his eyes darted about.

“Look, Carter is expecting us in three hours,” Sheppard rationalized. “She’ll send the troops.”

The thought seemed to calm something in Rodney. “Good… good…” he responded, “Because, I was worried… about that.” He paused and asked, “Three hours?”

Sheppard gave his watch a quick glance. “Yeah, no time at all.”

McKay nodded slightly, looking down at his hands that sat still in his lap. “Home for supper then?” McKay tried.

“No doubt.”

“Good, because… three hours…” McKay’s voice was soft.

Sheppard looked up at Ronon. Dex stood above, his arms at his side, looking miserable and powerless. Teyla opened her mouth to say something.

McKay didn’t have three hours.

John cut her off, saying quickly, “I hear Carter has been talking to the chefs.”

“What? What about?” McKay looked at him quizzically.

“The menus. She hasn’t been happy with them.”

McKay looked annoyed. “What has she got against our mess hall? Sure we could use more desserts. I mean, the carrot cake is great, but why can’t we have more devil’s food, or maybe an Oreo Cake. I used to love those. They never make them here. And would it kill them to try a German Chocolate cake from time to time, or a nice peach cobbler?”

“She’s been thinking about the main dishes. She has a certain favorite that she’s been missing." Sheppard grinned smugly. "I heard she asked the guys whip it up tonight.”

McKay suddenly realized what he was getting at. “Oh, for the love of God, not lemon chicken!”

Sheppard shrugged. “She’s the leader of this expedition. She gets what she wants.”

Rodney sneered at him. “Great… great… if I don’t die from the cute little lizards, or from starvation in this stairway, I’ll be dead from anaphylactic shock brought on by someone accidentally dribbling a little lemon sauce onto my lasagna. That’s totally unfair!”

“Remember how Elizabeth kept insisting they serve liver and onions?” Sheppard reminded. “She got her wish a couple of times, if I recall.”

“Yeah,” Ronon interjected. “Wasn’t too bad once you got beyond the taste.”

“I understand it is full of … nutrients,” Teyla added, trying to get into the spirit of things.

McKay just looked up at them with a miserable expression. “Oh, bite me! You guys are annoying as hell,” he mumbled.

Sheppard looked to Teyla and then to Ronon. They all nodded. “Yeah,” Ronon spoke. “We are.”

McKay snorted, and Sheppard went back to Ronon’s side, trying to figure out if there was any way to get beyond that door. It just wasn’t going to move. No matter how hard they tried, no matter how much they wanted it to open – the door was shut. Sheppard glared at it, hating it, hating the useless hole that Ronon had carved, and hating the Bankiers and their solutions to a problem.

“Bastards,” he growled. “Sons of bitches.”

Teyla met his gaze, her expression asking a question. How long? How long do you think Rodney has left? Sheppard just grimaced, not wanting to guess – not wanting to know. Maybe Carter would send a search party out early. Maybe the Bankiers would realize the errors of their ways and open the door. Maybe the skaha wasn’t a very poisonous one and the worst McKay would suffer is the pins-and-needles of a wraith stunner.

And all would be well.

Sheppard faced the door, as Ronon continued to work at it, trying to pry it with a knife, doing everything and anything that came to mind. Teyla squatted down in front of the hole – she called for the Bankiers, her voice light, her voice friendly, hopeful, plaintive, insistent, demanding. Her tone became hard and unyielding as her volume rose and her face became red. She called again and again, demanding someone to answer her.

When no response came, she sat back on her heels and looked up at Sheppard, still wanting answers.

The space grew quiet. It should never be that quiet when McKay was around.

Sheppard turned, finding Rodney slumping slightly, his head dipping. “Hey,” John called as he hurried down the steps. Quickly, he placed a hand on Rodney’s chest, forcing him back to the wall. “Hey,” he said again, when McKay didn’t say anything immediately.

Rodney turned his head slowly to meet Sheppard’s gaze. “What?” he responded without any force.

Sheppard tried not to show the worry that ate at him. It was so strange to see Rodney so utterly still and quiet. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

Wincing at the question, McKay responded, “You think anything’s changed?”

“Rodney,” Sheppard’s voice was firm. “Just tell me how you’re feeling.”

With a strange, leaden shrug, Rodney told him, “I can feel it creeping – inch by inch. I can feel parts of me just… going away. I…” His shoulders shrugged again, his face contorting in misery. “I feel… heavy. Don’t think I can move my arms very well.”

“Maybe it’s not that bad.” Sheppard tried to look encouraging. “Have you tried moving lately? Seems to me you’ve been just sitting around for a while.”

Rodney looked at him, then narrowed his eyes as he strained. His brow furrowed as he lifted one shoulder. It was a difficult looking move, as if he were trying to pull his arm loose from a terrible burden. Finally, with a sloppy motion, a hand slipped off his lap.

“There. You were right. I can still move my arm.” Opening his eyes, Rodney smiled softly at that small victory, then looked to Sheppard. Any sense of accomplishment vanished from his face when he caught the colonel’s expression.

Sheppard stared at McKay’s crumpled hand for a moment, where it rested beside him on stone stairway.

“It’s… it’s not so bad,” McKay tried to insist. “It will probably clear up in no time.” And he smiled most unconvincingly.

The assurance had no affect on Sheppard, who looked wretched as he watched his friend, and then turned away sharply to face the others. “Anyone have any other ideas?” he asked tiredly.

“I say we figure out a way to drill a hole through this wall,” Ronon stated, “And start shoving lizards through it. If they’re not going to let us out, they’d might as well suffer for it.”

Teyla moved down a few steps until she was beside Rodney and Sheppard. She sat down beside McKay and asked plaintively, “Is there a control panel or crystals we can manipulate in order to open the doorway?”

With a slow shake of his head, Rodney reminded her, “The Ancients didn’t build this stairway. The Bankiers constructed it. None of my usual tricks will work.”

“Well think of an unusual trick,” Sheppard grumbled.

McKay nodded slightly, his expression soft and thoughtful. “I’ll see what I can dredge up,” he replied. “At least my mind still works. Must be some way to get us all out of here.” He sat silently, positioned like an abandoned rag doll. He blinked as he thought, as he considered options.

Sheppard regarded McKay’s hand again, realized that it looked ‘uncomfortable’ in its current position, and carefully picked it up, feeling weird as hell about it.

“If you make me start hitting myself,” McKay stated in a tired voice, “I’m just going to be pissed and have to figure out some way of getting back at you.”

Sheppard smiled at the idea. “Maybe next time,” he replied, and settled McKay’s hand on his knee, and gave it a pat because the whole situation felt so strange.

McKay stared at the gesture, focusing on Sheppard’s hand. Perhaps he was as creeped out as Sheppard felt. “Yeah,” Rodney went on. “Yeah, I’d get back at you…somehow. Of course if I can’t move that might be difficult considering my current circumstance, but I could always build a…” His expression changed – to something very familiar to the colonel. A small smile played at his lips and his eyes seemed to brighten. John could almost see the wheels turning inside that head.

“What?” Sheppard asked sharply. “What are you thinking?”

“A robot,” McKay filled in.

“Yeah, right, so you’ll build a robot to get back at me. Great,” Sheppard answered. “Too freakin’ bad the big guy in the basement doesn’t work. God, if we could just get that thing moving…”

“The ring,” McKay added, staring at the piece of jewelry on Sheppard’s hand.

Sheppard pulled his hand away and looking at the thing. “Yeah, if it wasn’t for this thing, we wouldn’t be stuck here now.” And he made a movement to remove it.

“I didn’t get a good look at the ring earlier,” McKay went on. “The Osoyoos has the same symbol on it.”

Sheppard sat back, wondering what he was supposed to get from that comment. “Did it?” he tried.

“Colonel, the whole time I was working on the robot, you wanted me to stop, didn’t you?” Rodney’s statement was a simple enough one, but Sheppard felt an accusation. “Everything I tried failed.”

“Rodney, you know as well as I do that it was a bad idea to turn that thing on.”

“But it should have worked. I know what I’m doing colonel, and my efforts should have been successful. But, every time I tried to juice any system on the robot, you were standing beside it, wearing that ring, and thinking – ‘don’t do it’.”

“We have no idea if we can control it. All they want to do is smash and destroy.” John stopped talking, then returned his gaze to Rodney. “You think I can activate it?”

Looking annoyed, McKay told him, “I think you were stopping me from accessing systems that I should have been able to get into in my sleep. You locked me out, so I think you could do the opposite if you wanted to.”

“But can I control it?” Sheppard asked. “I mean, aside from bringing it on line… can I keep it IN line, just by thinking or commanding it?”

Rodney struggled a moment before saying, “I think so.”

That was good enough. Sheppard stood and glanced to Ronon. “Keep an eye on him,” he ordered and dashed down the stairs.

Teyla lingered long enough to rest a hand on Rodney’s shoulder. She smiled warmly, before she too stood.

“What’s going on?” Ronon asked, his voice low.

“I believe we are going to activate a Giant Killer Robot,” Teyla said. “And we will have an exit from this place, one way or another.”

And with that, she turned, and hurried after the colonel.

CHAPTER 8: OF THE MILLION WAYS TO DIE…

Ronon worked, keeping active because he had to. He couldn’t just sit and do nothing while McKay stopped moving, while McKay just sat there, incapable of lifting a hand. It was disturbing. It was wrong. So he kept trying to open the door, hoping that Sheppard and Teyla returned quickly.

“Think you’ll get out?” McKay called from behind him.

Ronon grimaced. “Working on it.”

“Because… I don’t see any change,” McKay responded. “Would be nice to see… progress of some sort.”

“I’m working on it,” Ronon repeated with a growl.

“Hopefully the robot will work. I really… I really should have gone with them. I’m not sure Sheppard knows what needs to be done. What if it doesn’t activate immediately? He might need me.”

Ronon glanced to McKay. The scientist was gazing down the stairs to where the other two had disappeared. He looked as if it were difficult for him to even move his head.

“I should have gone with them,” McKay went on.

McKay wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’ll check the radio,” Dex told him. “See if it’s working now. You can talk him through it.” And he clicked on the device. “Sheppard, Teyla, do you read me.” He waited, frowning but not surprised when there was no response. The lower levels of the complex must have been out of range. “Sheppard?” he tried again.

Instead, a different voice returned, “Hello? Hello? Is this right? Did I push the right button? Hello, are you there? Can you hear me? Hello? Hello?”

A red anger reached Ronon at the intrusion. He snarled into the mic, “Who is this?”

“It does work! This is amazing.”

“Who is this?” Ronon demanded again.

“Oh, it’s Winfield. I found Teyla’s talking device. This is fantastic!”

“You trapped us in here!” Ronon roared, clutching his radio so tightly it was nearly smashed. “Why?”

“Oh, oh…” the voice was dejected. “That was Keremeos and Solly, and the others of the Kaleden. It was their decision. I didn’t agree with it. They assigned workers to block you in. Keremeos is upset that she had to send her factory workers away after that was done, and I understand they were very nervous at your attempts to escape. It was disconcerting to them.”

Ronon snapped back, “Get us out of here… now! You’re one of them. Make them do it!”

There was a pause, and then Winfield said, “I don’t think you fully realize my position in the Kaleden. My family is of a low status. Our occupation is beneath them and our opinion means little. I can’t exactly…”

“GET US OUT OF HERE!” Ronon shouted. “One of my team has been bitten by the creatures. You will let us out NOW!”

“Oh dear… I… Oh dear, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I still can’t believe that the skaha were in the vault. It’s impossible.”

“Didn’t you see the lizards when you were down there with is?” Ronon snapped.

There was a pause, then a shamed voice stated, “I wasn’t looking. I should have. But, there was no reason for me to suspect. They’d been eradicated from this part of the planet.”

Ronon watched McKay, who seemed so helpless and immobile. “They came back,” Ronon grumbled.

“Listen, Ronon, these are dangerous creatures. Many of our people died during my grandfather’s generation. Those that survived were left infirmed and unable to move for the rest of their lives. It was horrible. So horrible.”

McKay swallowed and closed his eyes, as if unable to face Winfield’s words. Ronon just wanted to smash the Bankier in the face and shut him up.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Winfield tried.

“Let us out of here!” Ronon insisted, watching McKay. “We’ll get him home and he’ll be cured.” The scientist opened his eyes a fraction, and looked back at Ronon, wanting to believe.

“That would be good, wouldn’t it? Hey, have you seen more of the skahas?” Winfield asked urgently.

“No…” Ronon responded, and looked in the direction that Sheppard and Teyla had gone, knowing that they were getting into the midst of the lizards’ lair.

“Keep watch,” the Bankier urged.

Ronon turned away and groaned at the stupidity of the comment. He almost let Winfield know how ridiculous his warning was, but was cut off before he could speak.

“They will come. They hunt by biting their prey and poisoning it. Then they wait until their prey can no longer move. They’ll seek it in packs, devouring it when it’s helpless. They prefer to eat living tissue”

Beside him, McKay made a pathetic sound. Ronon’s gaze instantly sought McKay, and wished the Canadian hadn’t heard. “It’s not going to happen,” the Satedan told him.

“They’re coming?” McKay moaned, his eyes wide and terrified. He glanced up and down and all around him. “They’re coming to eat me while I’m still alive? Oh God… oh God…I can’t… I can’t move. They’ll…”

Ronon was already at his side, standing protectively and gazing down the stairs, searching out any sign of the creatures. “They’re not here,” he insisted.

“They’re coming!” Rodney continued, his voice high. “This is going to be horrible. Oh God, this sucks. This really really sucks. Of the million ways to die in this galaxy, why am I the one that gets eaten by cute little striped lizards? Why?”

“Calm down! They will not get you!” Ronon insisted. “McKay, listen to me! I will NOT let it happen.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll stop them, right?” McKay stated, trying to believe, but there was still a hysterical tone to his words.

Ronon kept his gaze on the stairway, watching the stairs, the walls, the ceiling, searching out any sign of moment. He pressed a hand against McKay’s shoulder and wondered if he even felt its presence. “I swear to you, McKay, they will not harm you. Not while I still live.”

“Okay,” McKay’s response was just a quiet squeak.

Ronon touched his radio again. “How do I stop them?” he asked the Bankier, realizing that a P90 or blaster probably wouldn’t do much good against them. “How do I kill them all?”

“You can’t,” Winfield responded quickly. It sounded like he was in movement.

“I will stop them, even if it means I have to stomp every one of them!” Ronon declared.

McKay snorted, and muttered, “Why is that not a surprise?”

“You can only kill so many that way,” Winfield told them. “There are too many.”

“There must be a way to stop them,” Ronon continued. “How’d your people do it?”

“There is a way, yes,” Winfield replied. His voice came in huffs as if he were running.

“How do I do it?”

“You can’t,” Winfield said. “You don’t have the proper materials. A lowly family, known for eradicating unwanted pests, created a mixture that worked. The substance killed all the skahas that could be found, and the creatures have been gone since that day – at least until now. The recipe almost died out with the family, but one lowly branch still exists.”

Ronon gritted his teeth. “Then, get it! Who has the recipe?”

“That would be me,” Winfield said as he ran. “I must go now, before the others know where I’ve gone. They did not agree with my plan. Goodbye.” And Winfield ended the transmission.

Ronon made sure Rodney was as comfortable as he could be, considering the circumstances. But all the while, the Satedan’s eyes never left the stairway.

He stood, waiting for the onslaught.

CHAPTER 9: SCREWED  
“How long will it take,” Ronon said into the radio.

“Hello?” Winfield responded. “Are you talking to me?”

“Yes!”

“I’m very busy.”

Ronon frowned and growled into the radio, “I need answers!”

“How long will what take?”

“Those skahas. How long will it take them to reach us?” The Satedan glanced to Rodney, finding him tilting alarmingly, about to pitch sideways onto the landing. He turned sharply, grabbing a fistful of Rodney’s jacket, and arrested his fall.

Rodney looked up at him, embarrassment evident in his expression. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“Forget about it,” Ronon told him. Still holding onto Rodney, he shucked one arm out of his jacket, changed his hold on Rodney and freed the other arm. Forming the jacket into a ball, he set it down and let Rodney ease onto the makeshift pillow. “Okay?” the Satedan asked.

“No! It’s not okay!” McKay spat out. “How could this possibly be okay? I can’t move! I can’t even hold my head up anymore! I’m so damn screwed! This is not good!”

Ronon wanted to say that everything would be fine, that it’d be okay and they’d be out of this mess as soon as Sheppard returned with the big robot, but he didn’t like to lie.

“And your coat really kinda stinks,” Rodney continued with his face half buried in the thing. He saved Ronon from having to say anything. “Did you know that? Do you ever wash it?”

Winfield was talking, but Dex had missed most of what he was saying, “… in the vault? There’s nothing there for them to eat.” Winfield was clattering about, moving things, searching. “The stairway is rarely opened. Well, they have air at least because… oh…”

“What?”

“Why hadn’t I thought of that? Of course, that’s how they found their way in! The air shaft,” Winfield stated. “But wait… that would mean…they’re out here, too.” His voice took on a hollow, frightened tone.

Ronon had only heard as far as ‘air shaft’, and that opened a new hope in him. “Where’s the airshaft?” A means of escape! If he could just access the airshaft, he might have a way to get McKay out of this place.

“It’s in the center of the stairway,” Winfield told him. “It exits onto the roof of this building. If they’ve been using the shaft, to come and go, then they must also be in the city!”

Ronon didn’t care. He stared at the inner wall of the stairway. The flights of stairs wrapped around a core, spiraling downward. The exit to the stairway was blocked, but the airshaft wasn’t.

Winfield kept speaking, mostly to himself, “Probably because they move at night. That’s it! That’s why they’re in the vault – because of the darkness. They come out to feed at night. Probably just taking small game right now.” There was a pause, and then the Bankier said, “I have to go. I’ll contact you again when I am able.”

Ronon rapped on the wall, listening, hearing it was hollow.

“Ronon,” McKay called. “What are you doing?”

“It could be our way out,” Ronon responded, rapping harder. Yes, definitely hollow inside. It wouldn’t be very wide, but that would work to his advantage. If it was big enough that he could fit within, then he’d just have to brace himself against the opposite walls, and he’d be able to ‘shimmy’ his way out – and once out, he could free the others.

“You did hear what he just said,” McKay tried, his voice snide.

“I’m just going to look. It’s daylight out. The lizards are probably all in the vault.”

“Probably?” McKay’s voice was high. “I don’t think we should risk…”

Letting out a low growl, Ronon stated, “We MUST find a way out! I will check the shaft to see if it’s safe.”

“The robot is coming! We should wait. They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

Ronon frowned. “Robot might not work. Sheppard didn’t trust the thing.” He gazed upward, calculating how far they’d need to climb. He patted the wall. “This might be the only way.”

“Hate to break it to you…” McKay started, “… but I really don’t think I’m up to climbing.” Ronon turned toward him, wondering if McKay's voice sounded quieter than it should. Rodney went on, “I … don’t think I could even manage it, even if I wasn’t…incapacitated.”

Ronon said nothing, just watching Rodney, noting how little he moved.

“It’s… I used to be able to move my head at least.” McKay paused, grimacing slightly. Ronon couldn’t help notice that there was a slackness there – as if even McKay’s face was succumbing. “I can’t move! I can’t gesture. I can hardly see because of this stupid coat. Do you have any idea how aggravating that is?”

"I know," Ronon responded. “I've been hit by Wraith stunners a few times.”

“It’s not like that!” Rodney exclaimed, sounding frustrated. “I can feel every inch of it progressing. It’s like I’m dying bit by bit. It’s… it’s just so wrong. Do I sound funny to you?”

Ronon shrugged, not wanting to say it, but there was a thickness to Rodney’s voice. He squatted down and fixed his coat/pillow so that McKay could see better.

McKay went on, quiet and sluggish. “What if I don’t recover? How can I get a point across if I can’t… point, or indicate or… How can I describe something if I’m not able to ‘show’ you what I mean?”

Ronon nodded. McKay’s hands were always moving about when he spoke, illustrating his words, adding flourish and detail. Although Dex hated to admit it, the pantomimes had been helpful to understand the constant cascade of words.

But, as Ronon stood, he knew it was the least of his worries.

“Oh my God, what if I can’t work?” Rodney lamented. “Can’t type? Can’t use a computer? What good am I then?”

Ronon turned so that he wouldn’t have to face those plaintive eyes. “We’ll get you fixed up,” he promised. “After I get us out of here.” He pulled a knife from his side, drew back his arm, and stabbed it into the wall. He smiled when the blade was driven to its hilt. The inside walls could be cut. “I’ll just look inside, and when Sheppard gets back, we’ll figure it out.”

“Careful!” McKay warned. “Really, be careful. If one of those lizards bites you, too…”

Ronon paused long enough to pull on gloves. He flexed his hands, showing them to McKay, who seemed to calm slightly at the sight. That solved, Dex went back to sawing, throwing occasional glances to Rodney, to see that the man was still okay, to ensure that the lizards had not made it to their level.

He calculated, figuring out how long it would take him to climb the shaft, how long it would take the toxin to affect him if he were bitten if a stray lizard was within the shaft, how long it would take to free his friends. He could do it, he figured. If he were to be bitten, he could stave off the paralysis longer than McKay, no doubt. He’d free them all.

Ronon carved, ripping at the wall, tearing a hole. He’d check to see that the shaft was clear, then after Teyla and Sheppard returned, he’d cut a hole big enough for him to fit through, and start climbing.

“Okay,” McKay said slowly. “What are you going to do if you do see lizards in that airshaft?”

“I’ll kill them,” Ronon declared as he reached in his gloved fingers and pulled, feeling the wall give.

“But what if they get out? They’ll eat me alive. They’ll just … chomp off bits and pieces. Suck out my eyeballs and feast on my spleen while I …”

Ronon spun about and shouted, “I will NOT let that happen! Do you see any lizards here? NO! It’s going to stay that way!” He pulled, freeing the square that he’d cut from the wall. With a grunt he tossed it aside and stepped forward to peer in – only to instantly jump back as dozens of hissing lizards came in at him.

CHAPTER 10: CHUNG

Teyla studied the laptop for a moment, checked the data that McKay had collected and pushed a few keys. “It appears that Rodney was able to download very little information. I am not finding anything we can use.” Looking to Sheppard, she questioned, “Perhaps this laptop was interfering with your ability to activate the Osoyoos.”

“Could be,” Sheppard admitted.

She shut down the computer and began detaching the cables, glancing from time to time to the still unmoving robot. “Try it now,” she declared.

Sheppard tried, calling out, “Start! On! Go!”

Teyla frowned as the machine remained silent. “Are you still wishing that it did not activate?” she questioned carefully.

“No!” Sheppard snapped. “We need this thing to get Rodney out of here in time. Of course, I want the damn thing to work.” He lifted the ring and pointing it at the robot as he closed his eyes and thought, ‘Turn on. Initiate systems. Engage!’

The metal man was silent. Its lights stayed dim. It didn’t move.

“Damn it!” Sheppard shouted. “What the hell is the matter with you? ON! Turn on! Osoyoos, Go! Boot up! Function! Start! Begin Processing!” He swung around and kicked the thing, but the action did nothing beyond making the colonel hop in pain for a moment.

The Osoyoos remained quiet.

“I don’t know what else we could do,” Teyla said mournfully. “Certainly we are missing something.” She stood up to search the Osoyoos.

“Are you looking for an on switch?” Sheppard snarled incredulously. “I think McKay would have tried that already.”

Teyla ignored Sheppard’s tone, knowing that it came from his concern over Rodney. “I am looking at the symbols,” Teyla told him as she reached up to investigate the marks. “Rodney did not realize that they matched your ring until he looked at your hand. Perhaps the symbols are the key.” She paused and pointed. “This character is different from the others.”

Sheppard moved to stand beside her, seeing the spot at the machine’s ‘neck’. The decorations encircled the area where its head met its body. The symbols were all identical, with one exception. At the back of the Osoyoos’ head, one character was sunken in, while all the others were raised.

“Perhaps,” Teyla started, “you must physically interact with it to activate it?”

"Okay," Sheppard responded. So there was an ‘on’ switch. Sheppard reached up, and inserted the ring into place at its neck. It was a perfect fit.

“Turn on!” he demanded – and it did.

A glow came to the thing. Designs and patterns lit all over the metal structure. Colors flickered across its head. The ovals that formed its eyes illuminated and then the whole thing rattled, as if shaking off a slumber.

Sheppard let out a breath and he could hear Teyla’s similar response.

Thank God, Sheppard thought as he stepped back and regarded the thing. It swiveled its head slowly, first turning one way and then the other. It seemed to survey the room, then it return its attention to him.

“Hey, you… robot,” Sheppard started, addressing the thing.

Little lights flashed throughout the machine.

Sheppard waited a moment, wondering what to expect. “Ah, can you talk?”

The robot only buzzed softly – whether it was meant as an answer, Sheppard couldn’t tell. A series of purple lights went off across its cranium.

“Great… great,” Sheppard stepped back from it and ran a hand through his hair. “How am I supposed to deal with this thing? The same people who built Atlantis also made this…science fair project?”

Teyla touched Sheppard’s arm and said urgently, “John, we must hurry.”

”Yeah,” Sheppard agreed. “Robot,” he called, “You’re going to obey me, right?”

The low buzz repeated – was that an affirmative? Or was it a quiet and rising rage, an urge to destroy, to smash all things human? ‘Don’t smash anything,’ he quickly thought at the thing. ‘At least… not yet.’

It made no aggressive moves, so Sheppard went on, “Okay…you will climb the stairs, and when you reach the top you will wait further instructions. Do you understand?”

There was another buzz, a higher tone than before. Lights flickered again, and the thing turned to face the direction Sheppard had indicated. Then, as if it had figured out its plan of action, it started walking.

One leg lifted and dropped with a CHUNG, and then the other – mechanisms grinding from lack of use. CHUNG CHUNG CHUNG. 

Sheppard and Teyla followed, hoping for the best.

When faced with the stairway, it stopped. Lights glimmered again as it regarded the space, and Sheppard wondered if the hall was wide enough to take on the girth of the robot.

Calculations complete, the big thing took the first step, chipping off bits of material from the step as its heavy foot came down. Then, it took another step. With the third, it ground to a halt. For a moment it was stalled as one of its ‘hands’ became wedged between the handrail and the wall. It kept dragging itself forward, pulling hard. The structure creaked and moaned as metal and material was strained, and suddenly -- the rail snapped. It went off like a gunshot.

Teyla and Sheppard jumped back, protecting their faces from the flying shrapnel.

Freed, and oblivious, the machine continued, stepping up, and up and up. The ruined rail fell in the stairway, crumpled.

CHUNG CHUNG CHUNG, it moved, knocking down tiling and splitting steps. Sheppard and Teyla kept up – but left a wise distance between themselves and the thing. It looked top-heavy – all shoulders and hulking arms, with a narrow waist atop those tree-trunk legs. A bad step might send the thing crashing backward.

It came around a turn in the stairs, and once again, rammed its arm in-between the rail and the wall. Another rail was jerked from the wall with a BAM.

Stupid freak should keep its arms up, Sheppard thought. It complied, raising it arms into a Frankenstein pose.

Great …. Great… a giant dumb-ass robot. Just what we need. The Marvel would probably ram right through a wall if we don’t keep an eye on it.

The robot veered, scraping into the wall and raining plaster-like material all around them.

“Robot!” Sheppard shouted, feeling stupid as hell for using 'robot' as a name. “Stop!”

It stopped again. 

Grumbling, Sheppard tried to form the right words. “You will not smash anything until I ‘say’ for you to smash it, okay? You’re not going to smash ANYTHING… unless you get a spoken order from me to do so. In fact, don’t do anything that I ‘think’. Just do what I say. Got it?”

The robots lights flashed a series of fuchsia and yellow lights.

Sheppard couldn’t tell if the robot agreed or disagreed with the demand. It just stood there. It took a moment for John to realize that it was waiting for a verbal command. “Right,” the colonel said. “Keep going up the stairs.”

It swiveled its head and did as it was told.

As the robot moved upward, Sheppard glanced behind, to where Teyla followed, walking backward up the stairs.

Feeling his observation, she turned to him for a moment, glanced to the Marvel that kept its monotonous stride upward, then returned her gaze to watching their six.

“It’ll get us out of here,” Sheppard said, wanting to believe it.

Teyla nodded and said, “Let us hope it is strong enough.”

“Yeah,” Sheppard replied, still feeling uneasy about the whole situation. The damn thing wasn’t a quick mover, but it seemed relentless and would carelessly follow any command. Sheppard just hoped he could stop it before it reached the others. He couldn’t trust it to tread lightly around them.

“The skahas,” Teyla said softly. “Do you find it strange that we have not seen them?”

“It’s better that way,” Sheppard replied, wishing the robot would hurry it up a bit. “I’d rather not see them at all.”

“Still,” Teyla said. “I find it worrying.”

CHAPTER 11: SKAHAS

Lizards tumbled through the hole in the wall, and the radio dropped from Ronon’s hand as he instantly snatched the sword from his back. He didn't even have to think. He slashed, decapitating the first reptiles that spilled through. He twirled the weapon and twained the lizards that clambered at the top of the opening.

His other hand still clenched the knife, and he stabbed a dozen or so skaha in rapid succession – they stacked up on the blade until they reached the bolster.

“Ronon…” Behind him, Rodney called. “Oh no… oh no…”

He turned quickly to see that the scientist was okay. McKay, still fixed on his side, looked at him with frightened eyes.

Dex returned his attention to the hissing purple and green skahas. His sword swung about, halving lizards. With the other hand, he sloughed them off his knife, freeing the implement for further slaughter.

And somewhere, far off, he could hear a booming sound -- a thudding that seemed to vibrate from below, through the stairwell. Something went off with a bang, sounding like a weapon firing.

Sheppard…Teyla…

Ronon set his jaw, realizing there was nothing he could do for them. He had only one duty at the moment – killing every lizard that skittered through that hole – keeping them from getting to McKay.

The lizards kept coming through, one after the other. The sword revolved, slicing and mincing, while the knife stabbed. If a live skaha hit the floor, it was stomped into paste. Once, he miss-stepped and the radio suffered for it.

He allowed himself a tight smile as the number of emerging lizards slackened. Yes, he'd keep his promise to McKay. No one was going to be eaten by little lizards today! And a second later, as a wave of them came at him, swarming out like a bucket thrown through the hole.

Too many! Too many! And they seemed to totally ignore the Satedan – having only one goal in mind.

“Ronon!” Rodney yelped, his voice high and horrified. “Help! I can’t… I can’t…”

Ronon dropped the sword. Knowing that the hole was allowing more to enter, he scooped up Rodney’s pack and jamming it into the opening in the wall. He just hoped it would stay in place and seal the hole.

He didn’t wait to see the result as he ran to Rodney, smashing lizards on his way, and fell to one knee as he grabbed a reptile that had landed on Rodney’s arm.

He quickly squeezed it between his fingers, popping its skull.

The next he ripped from McKay’s side and smashed it into the wall. Another was pulled off his leg and was pummeled into the ground. He reached, pulling the skahas, grabbing at them as they landed on the scientist.

He could hear Rodney’s panicked breaths, his fear-filled cries, but had no time to notice anything more. Ronon kept moving, as quickly as he could, gloved hands flying, becoming sticky with the entrails of the massacred. He jammed a thumb into the gut of one and smashed another with his knee. 

The thudding sound continued below them, like a horrible heartbeat to the stairs.

One skaha landed on the side of Rodney’s face. McKay flinched, unable to do anything except shriek as the hissing thing skittered across his cheek toward his eye. Ronon snatched it away and flung it into a wall where it left only a moist spot.

Ronon kept moving, his hands flying as he dispatched them – little creatures that seemed bent on doing nothing except getting to McKay – and eating him alive.

He killed them, reaching, smashing, smearing, squishing, popping, gutting, destroying. His movements were automatic – just killing purple and green lizards. Killing them all. Just one more… and one more… and…

The Satedan’s gaze darted as he sought the next target. As he realized that they were gone, he met Rodney’s gaze. For a minute, they did nothing except pant, trying to catch their breath.

“I…” McKay finally whimpered. “I… think… think that was the… last of them.”

“Yeah,” Ronon responded, glancing down the stairwell, as he listened to the continuing pounding that echoed up the stairs. 

“Think that’s Sheppard and Teyla?” Rodney asked, a tremor in his voice as he obviously tried to calm down.

“Hope so,” Ronon responded, stripping off his messy gloves. “Wouldn’t want to think about what else would make that noise.”

“The robot sounds… bigger that I thought. Must be pretty heavy,” McKay stated, trying to talk about anything except the lizards, but his gaze flickered toward a busted up lizard not far from his face.

“Just as long as it busts down that door,” Ronon responded, still feeling annoyed with his inability to do so on his own. He flicked the closest corpses away from McKay's face.

And any idea of escaping through the airshaft had been ruined. Ronon checked out his patch. “Looks like the hole’s still blocked,” he stated, glad that the pack hadn’t shaken loose, that it hadn’t fallen in, that it kept more of the lizards from getting through.

He cursed himself for being so stupid.

Unable to find any skahas in sight, he hunched down beside McKay to search around him to make certain that none were hidden near him. He tried not to grimace as he considered the fact that one of them might be feeding off the man and Rodney was unable to feel it.

“I think I hate those things,” Dex said offhand as he searched, feeling miserable that he had allowed this to happen.

“That was…” Rodney said quietly, his voice sounding strange and muted, “That was … pathetic.”

Ronon frowned at the statement as he continued hunting.

“Pathetic,” McKay repeated.

“I know,” Ronon finally responded. It was his fault, after all – a stupid choice. Shame flooded him.

“You won’t tell the others?” Rodney asked softly.

“Probably should,” Ronon responded, wondering if he should be grateful for McKay’s offer. He rolled McKay forward slightly, being careful not to hurt him as he looked behind him for any evidence of the creatures, feeling along Rodney’s back to ensure that none had managed to get within his clothing.

“When you do... tell them... could you just leave out the part…” Rodney started, his face turned toward the ground as Ronon held him. “…where I screamed like a girl? I… I just couldn’t help it… I…”

Stunned by the request, Dex rolled McKay back onto his side. Rodney’s eyes were filled with embarrassment. Ronon said nothing. The pounding, thudding sound continued in the stairs below them, getting louder.

“I should have been… more… stoic, right?” Rodney tried. “I just don’t do… brave very well.”

Ronon tried to think of something to say. “It’s just a bad situation,” he finally pronounced.

“Yeah,” McKay agreed. He forced a laugh and added, “But… it could be worse.”

Ronon frowned. “Don’t see how.”

“Could be raining,” McKay added, trying to smile, but his expression seemed muddled.

Ronon, not sure how to respond to that said, “I think we got all of them. I’m going to check to make sure we got this hole plugged up good.”

“K,” Rodney responded.

“Tell me if you see any more,” Ronon added.

“Yeah,” was Rodney’s reply, but his voice sounded so distorted now, Ronon could hardly recognize it. 

Dex let out a heavy sigh as he stood to check the pack.

And the floor continued to shake.   
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“Robot!” Sheppard shouted. “Robot, stop!”

The Osoyoos complied, turning its head again to blink its blinky lights at him.

“Wait here,” Sheppard ordered. “Stay still…”

Since silence seemed to be the best response he’d get, Sheppard turned to Teyla, telling her, “I’m going ahead. Need to check on the others and see if we can get them moved out of the way.”

“Yes,” Teyla replied. “I will remain here and keep an eye on… it.”

Sheppard moved forward, squeezing through the space between the robot’s hips and the wall, glad that it still held its arms in front of itself. It swayed a little to one side, probably reading his thoughts when he wanted a little more room.

“Ronon!” Sheppard shouted up the stairs. “McKay?”

“Hey,” Ronon’s voice came down. “That you making all the noise?”

“Yeah, we got the robot. I’m coming up.” He came to a halt as he made the final turn and caught sight of the last landing. It was splattered, spooged and stained with bloody unrecognizable bits. “What the hell?” he called out.

“Be careful where you step,” Ronon told him. “There’s guts everywhere.” The Satedan was standing beside Rodney, and was splattered with entrails himself.

“What happened?” John asked, climbing to their level. He could distinguish some of the stains now – lizard parts – purple and green tails, legs, bodies, heads and gooey innards strewn everywhere.

“Skahas,” Ronon said tersely. “I let them in.” And he nodded to the pack that had been stuffed in the wall.

“Go figure,” Sheppard responded, “And… you had a good reason for this?”

Ronon shook his head, and Sheppard couldn’t help note the look of guilt that crossed the big man’s face. “They came after him,” Ronon said, jerking his head toward McKay. “It’s what they do. Incapacitate, then…”

There was no need to go any further. John squatted down beside Rodney, trying not to look at the split and stomped lizard remains. God, how horrible that must have been for Rodney – for Ronon.

Only McKay’s eyes seemed to work as he followed John’s movements. It was obvious that his condition had worsened since John had last seen him, and it hurt his chest to see Rodney like this, paralyzed and totally helpless.

“Hey,” Sheppard greeted.

“Hey…” McKay responded, his mouth moving as if it were full of Novocain. “You’re back? Teyla?” His eyes darted, looking for her on the stairway.

“She’s with the robot. He’s just a flight or two down. He’s big and he’s stupid, but we got him moving. We’re going to get you out of here.”

“Yeah…” McKay garbled. “Good.” His eyes searched, piercingly. It seemed to take great effort for him to say, “Think it’ll open up that door?” 

Rodney looked so – weird, like a not entirely human version of McKay.

“Oh yeah,” Sheppard assured. “He’ll rip a hole right through that place. Just hang in there a bit. We’re almost out of here.” And he stood to face Ronon. “We have to move McKay. That robot barely fits in the stairway and I don’t trust it to step around anyone. That landing is pretty wide,” he said, pointing the level beneath them. “Think you can …”

Before Sheppard could answer, Ronon was already stooping down, and grasping onto Rodney. Sheppard moved fast to help, letting Ronon lift McKay’s upper body, while Sheppard followed with the legs. He managed to snag discarded Ronon’s coat with one arm.

Rodney felt cold, Sheppard realized. Almost as if he were already dead, and John sought out Rodney’s face again to ensure that he was still with them.

Those honest blue eyes still followed him, looking terrified and mortified. “This is almost over, Rodney,” Sheppard promised they maneuvered him. “We’ll get you to Keller and she’ll fix you up. I promise, we’ll get you back to Atlantis.”

The muscles of Rodney’s face flickered and Sheppard had the feeling that McKay had tried to nod. Failing that, he simply said, “Sure.”

At the larger landing, Ronon pulled Rodney into the corner, holding onto him and keeping him upright. There would not be enough room to let him lay down comfortably. Sheppard tossed Ronon the coat, saying, “He’s cold.”

“Yeah,” Ronon responded sadly, and then with a bit of forced bravo, addressed Rodney, saying, “Come on, little man, think you can fit in my clothing?”

Rodney made a disgusted grunt as Ronon pulled the coat around him like a blanket, holding him up the whole time. “Seriously…” Rodney said slowly, his words so garbled and soft, it was difficult to understand him. “We have a laundry system.” He drew in a breath and whispered, “Use it.”

Ronon allowed himself a smile, apparently glad to hear the abuse. “It’d probably fall apart. You look good in it. I’ll getcha one like it next time I’m at a market. They might have to make it special though, don’t know if they make them in size ‘tiny’.”

“Har har,” Rodney responded, the words barely more than an exhale. Swamped in the big jacket, he leaned as deadweight in Ronon’s arms. His head dipped and his eyes were on the floor as if he were embarrassed to look at either of them.

Dex nodded to Sheppard, “Okay, we’re ready,” he said casually, but his gaze said, ‘hurry’.

Sheppard nodded sharply and ran down the stairs to where Teyla waited with the robot. She stood, behind it, watching anxiously as John ran toward her.

“I heard Ronon, but did not hear Rodney,” she quietly stated, watching Sheppard’s expression.

“He’s still with us. Just not talking very loud,” Sheppard told her. “We have to get this done, now. Robot,” he changed his tone as he addressed the Osoyoos.

Its lights blinked.

“Follow me. Stop when I tell you to stop,” the colonel demanded and started up the stairway again. The robot clanked after him with Teyla behind.

Sheppard hurried, turning around one flight of stairs to the next. Ronon waited just above on a landing, holding onto Rodney, keeping him out of the way of the massive robot. The scientist gazed at them, watching the robot with eyes that reflected fascination, but a face that expressed nothing.

Sheppard hated it – hated to see Rodney so debilitated. It was wrong – it was as wrong as activating a giant killer robot or being attacked by candy-striped lizards.

This planet sucked. There was no doubt about it.

Turning sharply, John faced the robot again. “Stop,” he ordered. The robot stopped.

“See that?” Sheppard stated, indicating the blocked exit. “I need you to open the door and bust through the barricade that’s on the other side. And you’re going to be cautious as you walk past us. No one gets hurt. Do you understand?”

Another series of flickers coursed over the thing and it lurched forward. Sheppard stepped quickly, squeezing in beside Ronon and grabbing hold of the slumping Rodney. They turned, keeping Rodney against the safety of the wall, and squeezed themselves onto the landing as the Osoyoos lumbered by.

There was little room, and the two held their breath. Rodney, his face pressed into the wall, uttered an unhappy, “This bites.”

The robot eased by, whisking alongside them. Once past them, it turned and started up the last flight of stairs.

It galumphed, one step at a time, clunking its way up.

Teyla joined them as Ronon and Sheppard eased Rodney back to the ground. She looked distraught as she was finally able to see the state he was in.

But, as she moved closer, she smiled, and said softly, “Rodney, we will be home soon.”

“Sure,” Rodney said with difficulty. She wasn’t certain if he was questioning her or agreeing. She pressed a hand to the side of his face, trying to impart only hope and certainty.

Ronon stood beside them, protectively, as Sheppard stepped away, following the Osoyoos to keep an eye on it. There was no telling what would happen when the thing started attacking the door.

The big robot shambled upward, its wide shoulders scrubbing the walls as it clumped at every step. Then, it reached the upper platform, with only the barricaded, ruined door ahead.

Something caught, something tugged at its shoulder.

“Stop the thing!” Ronon suddenly shouted, grabbing Sheppard by the shoulder. “Stop it!”

“Robot, stop!” Sheppard shouted, but it was already too late. The pack pulled free, hanging jauntily from the robot’s shoulder – and the hole to the airshaft and the lizard super highway was once again open.

CHAPTER 12: OUT!

“No!” Ronon bellowed as he lurched forward, rushing to catch the pack before it hit the ground.

The robot had stopped in place at John’s command, as Dex snagged the backpack. He was spinning about to put it into place when a voice called out, echoing in the airshaft.

“Hello? Hello? Is someone talking? Is that you, Ronon?”

Ronon paused, holding the pack by a strap as he gazed at the hole. There was no sign of reptile intruders, and a strange chemical smell wafted from the airshaft.

“Hello?” The voice called again. “Are you there?”

Still warily eyeing the hole, Ronon responded with, “Winfield?”

“Ronon, you’re there! Thank the Ancestors!” the voice echoed back at him. “I’d tried using the talking device, but my calls went unanswered and I gave up.”

Ronon glanced to his feet, at the remains of the radio.

The Bankier continued, “I’ve sprayed the inside of the air shaft with the repellent, but I fear that may have simply sent the skahas to the bottom level. You’d best be cautious.”

“Repellent, huh?” Sheppard asked as he joined Ronon.

"He's some sort of exterminator," Ronon explained in a low voice.

"You don't say," Sheppard responded.

“Colonel Sheppard?” Winfield questioned. “Yes, I was able to mix the repellent quickly and had to use the entire batch. There wasn’t time to create the killing potion, but it was enough to ensure the skaha will no longer use the airshaft.”

“But they might start using the stairway,” Sheppard added.

“Oh,” Winfield responded. “Yes, that’s true.”

“I’ll check it out,” Ronon declared.

Sheppard nodded to Ronon. “Don’t go too far. We’re getting out of here.”

Ronon turned and dashed down the stairway. 

“Winfield,” Sheppard called. “I need that barricade moved. Now!”

“No, sorry,” the voice returned. “Like I told Ronon, the building has been emptied. I’m on the roof right now so that I could access the shaft. I doubt the barrier could be moved if we tried, after what you did to it with your weapon.”

“Fine!” Sheppard grimaced, hoping that he would have heard better news. “We’re busting through.”

“What? How?”

Sheppard grinned slightly. “We activated your Osoyoos.”

“Activated? Do you mean it is walking?”

“More like stomping, but yeah… it’s walking.”

“The Osoyoos is walking?” Winfield said, sounding perplexed and a little alarmed. “Is that wise?”

Sheppard looked to McKay, sick and still and undoubtedly dying. How much longer would he be able to breathe? 

“Wise? Probably not,” Sheppard returned. “But we have to get out, and this is all we could come up with.” He then addressed the robot, calling, “Osoyoos, force open this door.”

And the robot, blinking pinkishly, complied.   
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The world seemed to have closed down around him, focused to nothing outside of what he could see and hear. And his vision was limited to what was directly in front of him. Rodney was broken – little more than an active mind inside a body that would not work.

Even his jaw felt strange, his tongue like rubber. Forming words would take all his concentration. Only his eyes still moved with any ease, but it was getting harder to keep them open.

He watched the stairway, where Ronon had disappeared, and where the awful skahas were certainly congregated.

It had been terrifying, horrifying, to be so damn helpless. He’d never felt so vulnerable before. If not for Ronon, he would have been eaten alive, and now the man had run down to face off the creatures again.

If Ronon were to be bitten…

Rodney didn’t even want to think of that possibility, yet he continued to gaze down the stairway because his head wouldn’t move and he had nowhere else to look.

A clatter diverted his attention, a dreadful rending of metal. The robot! Sluggishly, he tried to change his gaze, trying to see what was happening, but he couldn’t move to get a better view.

Crashing, tearing, smashing, the sound filled the corridor as the Osoyoos battered against the door and the barricade.

If he could only see… He tried. He tried with all his might to change the angle of his head, only a little, but his head felt as if it was fixed in a vice.

The banging continued. Metal screeched and clanged. Sheppard was shouting at the robot, urging it onward.

It was so damnably frustrating. He tried to flex a hand, to bring up an arm to leverage himself, but nothing worked, nothing responded to his demands. He wanted to see.

The Osoyoos smashed. The Osoyoos busted and broke and battered. It must be fantastic! He was so damn close!

This sucked.

Would he always be like this? Forever trapped in a body that refused to work for him? Unable to even turn his head an inch? He’d be unable to do anything, dependant forever on others, stuck in shell. How could he work? There was so much that he needed to do.

What would they do with him if he couldn’t contribute?

Stephen Hawking faced this every day, right? Look at what he’s accomplished. He’s a genius. Everyone respects him… but it’s so damn terrifying.

Please, he thought. Please. I just want to see. Is it that so hard? I just want to see the Giant Killer Robot rip a hole in the door. It would be so cool.

He saw nothing but the downward stairway.

It was as frustrating as hell.

The smashing continued, Sheppard shouting commands that seemed to amount to little more than, “Go! Go! Go!"

The robot banged and crashed and tore. The ground beneath him might have been shaking but he could feel nothing.

Suddenly, Sheppard shouted, “I think he’s almost through. Robot, just keep going! Get that thing out of the way! Now! Go! Smash that thing there.”

And with another screech of metal, Sheppard shouted, “Yes! That’s it!” He sounded excited and it made McKay feel even worse that he’d missed out on the show. “He’s through! We can get out!”

Great! McKay thought. Let’s go. Let’s get out of here – now – please. I can’t do this. This is torture. This is torment.

“Ronon!” Teyla shouted from somewhere nearby. She’d been so close that McKay would have jumped if he were able. Where was she? Right beside him the whole time? “Hurry, Ronon, we can leave.”

Ronon came running up the stairway, and McKay would have smiled for the chance to actually see something. The Satedan, splattered in fresh gore, paused when he realized McKay was looking at him, and then ran past Rodney, out of sight. 

“The skahas are coming up the stairs,” Dex announced. “I’ve been trying to stop them, but there are too many.” He sounded frustrated.

“Time to go,” Sheppard said from above.

Ronon’s face suddenly came into view. He squatted down and asked, “Ready?”

Rodney tried to form a response, managing only a thick, “Okay.”

“Let’s go,” Ronon said brusquely.

There was a moment of dizzying movement, and suddenly he found himself upside-down, his face pressed against leathery material. Something fluttered near his face and he realized it was Ronon’s coat – still wrapped around him like a blanket.

“I got him,” Ronon announced.

“How’s he doing?” Sheppard asked.

Rodney wanted to snap something clever, but his mouth wasn’t working well and he could see nothing now with his face against Ronon’s back.

“We must hurry,” Teyla announced. Her hand must have been on his neck. He’d never felt the pressure of it, and had only seen her hand as she pulled it away. “Now, Ronon. We must move quickly.”

And then they were moving, his face bumping against Ronon’s back. He realized that being in a fireman’s carry should have been uncomfortable.  
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Sheppard barged through the hole created by the Osoyoos and moved onto the factory floor. Free! Finally out of that damn stairway. As he looked back, he was mildly impressed that the Bankiers were able to move so much equipment in so little time to bar their escape. Bastards.

Of course, he was even more impressed with the robot that had been able to smash a hole through everything.

He reached the Osoyoos, and decided that activating a Giant Killer Robot wasn’t such a bad idea. It had obeyed his every word. He gave it a friendly pat as he moved around it to allow Ronon through with Rodney. Things were definitely looking up. They’d be able to make it back to Atlantis in no time.

Then the thing moved. Its arms still out in front of it, the machine jitterbugged sideways. Green and blue lights flickered everywhere as it blocked the egress.

Behind it, Ronon growled as he kept Rodney secure at his shoulder. “Sheppard!”

“Robot,” Sheppard called. “Move out of the way. Come this way.”

The lights flicked and the robot moved as it was told… then went sideways again. It paused, and then shuffled back and forth.

What the hell? I’m definitely not thinking that!

“Robot, stop!” Sheppard ordered.

And it did… for a moment. The lights kept up their show and the robot turned around, its reaching arms clanging against bits of broken machinery. It repositioned itself and started moving into the stairway with Ronon and Rodney directly in its path.

Ronon back-stepped quickly. Teyla, just behind him, helped guide, making sure that Rodney remained safe in their quick backtrack.

“Robot, stop! Osoyoos, stop!” Sheppard shouted again.

It stopped, and its head rotated round and round, setting off a carnival of lights – reds and yellows and blues.

“Back up!” Sheppard yelled. “Osoyoos, come toward me, now!” The robot obeyed, clunking backward through the hole. “Keep moving. Keep moving. Come on!”

It clattered and groaned and backed up until the opening was unblocked again.

Ronon ran, moving quickly through the space. The robot’s head was spinning about again like a tilt-o-whirl. Ronon, still holding McKay against his shoulder, came alongside Sheppard. They waited for their last teammate.

But the robot was already moving, back into the hole before Teyla could follow.

“Colonel?” Teyla called anxiously as it ambulated toward her, its arms out and reaching.

“Robot!” Sheppard called, his voice getting strident. More lights blinked and its clanking step stopped. 

Teyla kept close to it, trying to find a space that she could fit though as it moved. “If you keep it stopped, I would be able to get around it,” she tried.

“Right,” Sheppard responded. “Robot, keep still!”

Teyla was already working her way around it. The hole through the door and machinery wasn’t terribly deep, but the space was irregular, and bits and pieces of rent machinery jutted out everywhere. It was not as easy as passing the thing in the stairways, but Teyla was nimble and eased her way into the narrow gap.

And the machine moved again, with Teyla beside it. She had no recourse except to hang on as the thing to keep from getting smashed. With one step, they were through the hole and in the factory.

“Teyla,” Sheppard called once she was clear. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Teyla let go and started toward the others, but the robot’s arms finally dropped, and it grasped hold of her. She made a startled sound as it tugged her. And, in one quick movement, she was slung over its ‘shoulder’.

“For the love of…” Sheppard cried out. “Listen, Osoyoos! Stop! Stop! Release her!”

But it didn’t. Instead, it ran, with Teyla gripped tightly to its shoulder.

The situation had just gotten worse.

 

CHAPTER 13: THIS IS NOT HAPPENING

“Crap!” Sheppard shouted as the Osoyoos clumped away with Teyla slung over its shoulder. Teyla said nothing as she writhed in its grip, struggling to free herself from the machine.

John moved after it. “This is NOT happening!” he yelled as he sprinted.

The robot stomped toward the far end of the building, the top of its head clipping overhanging equipment. Teyla jounced on the metal shoulder as she tried to reach her weapon, frustrated by the robot’s tight grip.

“Stop! Robot, stop!” Sheppard shouted, but the Osoyoos seemed unable to hear him. It seemed utterly confused as it staggered, as Sheppard and Ronon followed it.

“Deactivate! Turn off!” Sheppard tried, rushing to keep up. “Down! Off! Power down!” With a grimace, he even tried, “Klaatu Barata Nikto!”

He hoped McKay hadn’t heard that. He’d never live it down.

The machine didn’t stop. It lurched. One arm restrained Teyla, the other remained out in front of itself. The hand reached and grabbed, tearing at the equipment that surrounded it. It smashed. Equipment rained down, and Teyla ducked as something clipped her side.

“Stop! Stop, Osoyoos!” Sheppard kept trying, but the robot didn’t respond. ‘Robot, Stop!’ he thought. ‘Stop stop stop!’ But nothing seemed to work. It was out of control, continuing to destroy every machine in its path. Bits and pieces of manufacturing equipment plummeted behind it. Teyla covered her head, trying to avoid the deadly-looking projectiles, and Ronon and Sheppard slowed in their pursuit as they avoided the missiles.

“Oh! Oh!” a voice called out – Winfield. “There it is! The Osoyoos!”

Sheppard turned sharply, finding the man standing just outside the factory, peering through a doorway. Two other Bankiers were beside him – an older woman and a withered old man, both wearing too much red.

“Get the hell out of here!” Sheppard shouted at them.

“My factory!” the woman shouted. “You’re ruining everything! Get it out of here!”

“The vault,” Winfield directed. “We should send it back to the vault!”

“It is a product of the Ancestors!” the old man cut in, sneering at Winfield. “We must study it! It is the Marvel! It’s glorious to see it in action!” His voice rose joyfully.

Sheppard ignored the calls and continued to follow the Marvel, with Ronon beside him, hanging tightly to Rodney. Sheppard couldn’t tell if McKay was conscious.

The robot rambled directly to a ‘waist high’ conveyor system. The Osoyoos didn’t stop and the belt was ripped loose, partially wrapping around the robot for a moment. The flapping bits of belt just missed Teyla, and the Osoyoos kept moving. The conveyor system smashed to the floor.

The Osoyoos continued destroying anything in its way. Teyla had managed to pull her 9mm from her belt, but her attempts to fire it into the creature had been useless. Bullets deflected. It stamped onward.

“Off!” Sheppard tried again, and then ‘thought’ the word with every ounce of concentration. Turn off, he demanded internally. Osoyoos, Stop!

“It’s not working!” Ronon growled. He stopped when they reached the smashed conveyer belt and he carefully slung the paralyzed man down from his shoulder. Machinery continued to crash as the Osoyoos moved onward.

Sheppard let out a sigh of relief to see McKay’s eyes open, but turned to Ronon, snapping, “Now’s not the time for a breather!”

The Satedan gently maneuvered McKay to the floor, placing him under the remainder of the conveyor belt and next to a support column. He settled Rodney on his side, and assured, “I’m coming back.” 

Rodney just stared, and blinked slowly.

Sheppard fumed, “We’re not leaving Rodney!”

“You’re not,” Ronon told him. “You’re staying here. I’m going after the big robot.”

“I’m the one with the ring,” Sheppard reminded. “I’m the one who controls it.” He held up his hand to show off the piece of jewelry.

Quietly, they heard the labored voice of Rodney say, “That’s…. working… so… well…”

“I’ll get Teyla,” Ronon promised. “And then we go home.” And he lit off after her. Unhindered by McKay, Dex moved like a wild animal, leaping over the destruction to catch up to the Marvel and its captive.

Sheppard let out a sigh, wishing he could follow. Wishing that …

“What’s…happen…ing?” Rodney asked anxiously. His head was turned where Ronon had settled him, and he was staring into the blank side of the column.

Letting out a breath, Sheppard squatted beside Rodney. It was good to hear him talk, but God, he looked horrible. The last thing they needed to do was delay their return to Atlantis any longer. He considered picking up Rodney and starting off on his own. Ronon could take care of the Giant Killer Robot.

Teyla cried out in pain, and John’s head lifted.

“What… was… that?” Rodney asked slowly.

“Teyla,” Sheppard started, feeling torn. “Ronon’s helping her. He’s going to stop the robot,” Sheppard explained. “Hopefully his blaster has recharged. The damn robot just picked up Teyla and made off with her like King Kong. How goddamn ridiculous is that?”

Things smashed. They could hear machinery falling, and then a burst of weapons fire -- but no blaster. More bashing followed. Sheppard was too low to see and he fought the urge to stand up when Rodney spoke again.

“Teyla… she…” the words were quiet, garbled, thick, and Rodney seemed to be using every ounce of strength just to say them. “Okay?”

“Yeah, she’s okay,” Sheppard told him. “So far…” He stared in the direction of the noise. “We have to get home, now! This is just so messed up. I TOLD you that activating that robot was a bad idea! A very very bad idea.”

Rodney just breathed for a few moments. Wrapped up in Ronon’s long jacket, he looked strangely vulnerable. “Got to… get her…” he stated.

Sheppard responded with, “Yeah, we’re working on it.” He gritted his teeth and then growled, “What the hell happened? The thing was listening to my every word? Why’d it go haywire?”

Rodney panted for a moment as the clattering continued. They could hear Ronon shouting, and Teyla’s tight responses. Weapons fired, and the robot still smashed.

“Ring…” Rodney said with effort.

Sheppard scowled as he sat down beside Rodney. “It’s about as useful as a Cracker Jack toy right now.”

“Twelve…” the word was difficult for Rodney to say.

“What? Twelve?” Sheppard pondered a moment before he remembered, “The twelve rings? And this one is number thirteen. Lots of luck there.”

“Too many…” Rodney struggled, his eyes still fixed on a spot before him on the support beam.

Sheppard considered the thought and then nodded. “I got it,” he stated. “We have thirteen people wearing rings out here. So, the Giant Killer Telepathic Robot is getting all sorts of conflicting messages. It’s overloaded! Great. Fucking great!”

Underground, the radios didn’t work. Underground, the Osoyoos had only one voice to obey. Now, the three Bankiers, all members of the Kaleden, were crying out with different demands. And there were nine others like them in the city, wearing the Signet of the Kaleden, sending out ideas, thoughts, wants.

“Damn it!” Sheppard cursed. “Who the hell thought that a telepathic robot was a good idea?”

If he could just shut up the rest of the Kaleden. If he could just shut them all up! But how the hell was he going to do that? Sure, he could take out the three Bankier’s by the door, but where were the rest of the Kaleden? And would he ever be able to control the Osoyoos while others still wore the rings?

“We got all the damn luck, don’t we?” Sheppard sighed. He watched Rodney carefully. His face was so still – his eyes blinked so slowly. He seemed to be building up his strength again – drawing in a deep breath. Another loud crash shook the room. People were shouting.

“How…” Rodney stated, his voice little more than a distorted wheeze. “How’d you…” And then he paused again, just breathing.

“How’d I what?” Sheppard demanded when nothing else followed.

Eyes still fixed on nothing, Rodney forced out, “Turn… it… on.”

“How’d I turn on the robot?” Sheppard stopped and stared at the ring again. He squinted, remembering the trick.

Quickly he stood, sighting the Giant Killer Robot as it flailed at some sort of machine on the far side of the room with Teyla still clenched to its shoulder. Ronon had a big metal pipe. Apparently the blaster wasn’t recharged yet.

Teyla shouted in pain as something struck her.

“Go,” Rodney whispered.

“I’ll be back!” John promised. “Rodney, I’ll be right back, okay?”

John ran, following the robot that continued to smash. Ronon lifted the pipe, and Teyla screamed.   
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She fought. She struggled. She tried for all she was worth to free herself from the grip of the Osoyoos. One metal hand was clamped tightly over her and no matter now hard she worked against it, the grip would not loosen.

It stomped, it raged, it tore and savaged the machinery around it. It seemed aimless, constantly changing directions and intents.

Another large piece of equipment fell and she cried out involuntarily as it struck her hard on the shoulders.

Ronon was behind her. He’d given up on firing on the thing, and was now trying smash it across the knees with a metal bar that was as thick as his arm. He swung, hard.

The bar impacted with a WANG, and Ronon shouted as the action resulted in nothing outside of vibrating his shoulders down to his spine. The robot didn’t stop.

There were other people in the factory now. Teyla caught sight of them as the Osoyoos spun around. She saw Keremeos shouting angrily and throwing things. A metal tool smacked the robot’s head and she ducked again, trying save her own cranium.

She felt dizzy and sick. She knew she’d been hit far too often. One of her arms was probably broken, a victim of a falling beam. She struggled against the nausea as the machine continued to move.

She saw Solly who looked enraptured as he watched the berserk Osoyoos. There were others, but she did not see Winfield.

The Bankiers were shouting to each other as they tried to block the robot, to herd it one way or another.

They failed.

Teyla twisted, trying to see where they were going. One Bankier stood in front of the Osoyoos, waving hands shouting at the thing – he wore red. “Osoyoos! I command thee!” he shouted. “Stop! In the name of the Kaleden, stop!”

The robot did not listen. She yelled at the man to get back, to get away, but he did not move and the big robot just smashed over the unfortunate man. Teyla gasped, not wanting to be horrified.

“This must end!” she demanded. The Osoyoos stormed onward, tossing machinery hither and yon as people scrambled.

Ronon was beside her, doing what he could to stop the machine. But everything failed. The machine was unstoppable. It wouldn’t cease until everything in the factory was torn to pieces.

And then where would it go?

Suddenly, Sheppard was sprinting toward her. She called out his name as the thing spun her about. John stopped, and yelled something about the ring.

“The ring?” she called back, wanting to understand, but the cacophony was impenetrable, her head hurt too badly, one arm wouldn’t move without sending out electric bolts of pain.

“We need to turn it off with the ring!” Sheppard shouted as he tried to get around the mishmash of damaged machines. 

He could not get close.

“John!” she shouted. “Toss it to me!”

Sheppard had the jewelry off his finger in an instant and drew back, waiting until the right moment, when the Osoyoos had paused at the base of what looked like a massive water tank.

He flung the ring just as the robot stepped forward. It reached toward the huge tank as Teyla strained, her one good arm reaching.  
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Rodney tried, but it was too hard to keep his eyes open. He struggled, but there was nothing to see, and his eyelids were leaden. Defeated, he let them close. He could feel nothing. It was as if his body was gone.

All he had left was sound. He could still hear.

Things still smashed, still crashed. The Osoyoos was moving further away. Ronon and Teyla were shouting to each other, and then Sheppard’s voice joined in.

They would stop the robot, he told himself. They would succeed.

They’d save Teyla.

There were other voices, and he wondered where they’d come from.

Breathing was getting difficult. He found that he had to consciously draw each breath. It was as if his lungs had forgotten how to work. He couldn’t feel his chest and the act of breathing felt alien to him.

The voices were getting garbled, the sounds fainter and he strained to hear – to hear anything. What were they saying? Why were they so far away?

He could hardly distinguish one noise from another. In the distance, it was all slipping into white noise.

Even the crashing of the marauding robot seemed to fade. Everything was fading.

And then a sound became distinct to him. It was soft, so it must have been very close. What was it? -- a slithery, slickery sound -- the padding of feet.

He tried to understand. What could that be?

A quiet hiss. A little ‘thunk’. Another. Something was hitting another surface. Perhaps, something was jumping? Landing?

It bustled. They hustled, very near. There were many of them. Getting closer all the time.

Thunk and thunk and thunk. Very quietly.

He listened, hearing the quiet smacking, a ripping, a tearing – little teeth – little mouths working – biting –

Eating.

Oh my God, he thought, and no… no… no…

And then even his hearing went away. He was left senseless, in the dark, alone, with the thought that tiny creatures were eating him alive.

And he had to keep breathing.

CHAPTER 14: NUMB

Teyla’s one good hand flashed out and grabbed for the flying ring. For a moment she fumbled it, but she would not fail. She caught it as it tumbled, and clasped it tightly. Quickly, she managed to finagle it onto her finger as the Osoyoos lurched forward. The robot plunged its unstoppable arms into the side of the tank.

Water erupted in an explosion as the tank burst, spewing and spraying. Teyla gasped as the liquid came up over her, dousing her, filling her ears, blinding her, and momentarily leaving her senseless. She closed her eyes, sealing her mouth as it coursed around her head.

Eyes shut, she felt around, finding the depression in the robot’s neck as the Osoyoos still moved forward. It threw aside the remains of the giant tank. The water coursed through the factory.

The Osoyoos kept moving, splashing through the water that had pooled -- and it headed toward the next tank.

Teyla shook her head, clearing her eyesight as her wet hair hung over her face. On the next tank, she recognized a symbol for ‘flammable’.

Without wasting a moment, she shoved the ring into the depression, thinking ‘Off, Osoyoos! Turn off! Stop!’

Metal hands reached toward the sign that said ‘fuel’, and – the whole thing just stopped. Its raised foot came down with a bang, and the machine ground to a halt. One last display of blinking lights, and then the robot went dim. Teyla was left clasped to the shoulder of a giant not-moving robot.

She felt numb and tired as she looked toward the others, to smile in triumph, but they were already running in the other direction.

“Rodney!” John shouted as he splashed through the layer of water. “Rodney!”

Ronon was right after him, ducking and dodging the destruction.

Teyla watched, her eyes wide with horror as she considered the water that now covered the floor, and that Ronon no longer carried their teammate. “You left Rodney?” she shouted in disbelief. “John! Ronon! Where is he? Is he…?”

Sheppard was shouting something, and Teyla stared in disbelief. There wasn’t a great deal of water on the floor, but a man could drown in an inch of liquid if he couldn’t move his head.

No, she thought. No...

Sheppard yelled out, “The floor is raised here! Thank God! Rodney, we’re coming!”

Teyla twisted about in the robot’s grip, cradling her hurt arm as she saw Sheppard step around the busted conveyor system.

And then Sheppard shouted -- not a word, but rather a sound of rage and fear.   
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No! No no! 

Sheppard leaped over the wreck of the conveyor belt, hardly able to see McKay. There was only a sea of flailing hissing lizards – tails, legs, heads. And more were coming, streaming from the vault.

God no! NO! Sheppard felt an icy horror grip him as he lunged at the mass, grabbing handfuls of skahas.

Ronon roared as he dived in. He reached toward Rodney’s neck and jerked away the coat that had covered him. Lizards went flying everywhere, smashing into surfaces. Hardly pausing, Ronon grasped onto Rodney and lifted him off the ground and onto his shoulder.

Sheppard breathed out when he realized that the heavy coat had mostly protected the man. It lay crumpled on the ground now, tattered and frayed by the jaws of lizards, bitten to pieces. Rodney was bloodied on his hands and face and a few places where the lizards had made their way through the coat… but at least it hadn’t been worse. Still, the knowledge of what had happened under their noses, filled Sheppard with anger.

Sheppard worked quickly, smacking off the lizards that managed to stick to Rodney. Ronon moved backward quickly, stomping on lizards as he moved. John kept close, swiping at the newcomers who continued to leap up at McKay. The skahas weren’t giving up. The damn things weren’t giving up!

The lizards were everywhere, swarming under their feet, climbing their pant legs. They skittered up walls and came sailing at them as Ronon tried to maneuver through the ruined factory, as Sheppard kept knocking them down.

“Bastards!” Sheppard yelled as another one jumped down from above, aiming for McKay’s head. It was smashed into a wall instead. “It’s okay, Rodney,” Sheppard tried to assure. “We got you now.” 

And Rodney gave no response. He just breathed with a labored rhythm, his eyes closed and his face pale.

They would make it to the door – to the exit. But there was so much destruction in the way -- it was taking forever to maneuver around it. Ronon did his best, stepping and balancing with McKay. There were so damn many of the skahas.

Suddenly, something blocked their path, and then there was a horrible hiss and a thick mist rose up around them, blinding them.

Sheppard choked. He coughed and blinked against the stinging fog. He could see nothing. No! NO! The hissing increased in intensity and his eyes burned.

“Hold still!” a muffled voice called. 

He rubbed furiously at his eyes, blinded.

“Just hold still, fellows! Hedley, get in behind them! That’s right. Smart boy! There’s more back there! Vernon! Help your brother!”

“Yes, Papa!”

“You’re doing great. Go on, Oliver. Get that one that snuck behind that stamping machine. That’s it. You got it! Good work, men!”

The fog cleared, slowly sinking to the floor of the factory, revealing Winfield and a small army of children, all masked and wearing goggles, armed with tanks and spray-rods. One boy, who no more than five, was spraying the bejeebus out of an obviously dead lizard.

Winfield pulled the mask from his mouth, and dropped a hand onto the boy’s head and mussed his hair, getting the child to stop his attack. “Good boy, Oliver. You did it just like I taught you.” The boy did a little dance of glee.

All around them in the settling mist were the carcasses of lizards -- hundreds of them, maybe thousands, in horrible twisted poses – dead.

The Bankier Exterminator pulled off his goggles and beamed at Sheppard, with that smile that was just a bit too large for his face. “Colonel Sheppard!” he called. “The missus did it in time! She whipped up a batch of lizard killer, and then me and the boys took it from there.”

As glad as Sheppard was that the lizards were dead, there was something more important at the moment. Ronon was jiggling McKay as he held him tight to his shoulder. The Satedan’s face furrowed in concern.

“Ronon?” Sheppard asked. “How is he?”

“Breathin’ real bad,” Ronon responded. And together they listened to the shallow, irregular gasps.

Rodney was fighting for air. Sheppard felt numb at that realization. He pressed a hand to Ronon’s back and ordered, “Go!”

And Ronon, holding tightly to Rodney, and took off in a run, dodging through the rest of the room, smashing dead lizards beneath his feet. He disappeared through the doorway and ran out into the alleyways of the city.

Sheppard watched him go, then turned abruptly and went in another direction. He hurried to the Osoyoos, where a dripping-wet Teyla was still clasped in its grip. Winfield and his boys continued their search and destroy mission.

“Rodney?” Teyla asked, as John reached her. “Is he going to be all right?”

Sheppard shrugged, and he set to work freeing her.

“You should have gone with them,” Teyla chided. “It is a long distance and Ronon could have used your help.”

“He’ll manage it,” Sheppard responded as he fussed about, trying to figure out how to make the robot’s arm lift.

“You should have gone with Rodney,” Teyla persisted.

Sheppard didn’t deny her statement, but returned with, “I’m not leaving you. And we need some more information before we can go back.” And he cursed himself because his hands didn’t want to work. He wasn’t able to do much of anything as he pried at the Osoyoos.  
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Sheppard woke in the infirmary. He felt a little numb, and for a moment, he was confused and lost. It took concentration to remember what had happened.

He’d managed to free Teyla with the help of some of the Bankier workers and a crowbar. Winfield had supplied him with samples of the lizard killing concoction, along with several dead lizards for analysis. The exterminator had offered up information on how they usually treated victims of skaha bites, had given them access to medications.

By then, the numbness had crept up to John’s elbows and had taken over most of his feet. Teyla was suffering from a concussion and a broken arm, along with a number of abrasions and colorful bruises. Together, they’d leaned on each other and managed to make it through the Gate to return to Atlantis – where Rodney and Ronon were already being treated.

The samples gathered from Winfield were given to Keller, and Sheppard had been confined to the infirmary, along with the others. And then they waited. He remembered looking across to Ronon, who sat up in bed, looking bewildered and numb as his unmoving arms were crossed in his lap.

Sheppard didn’t even remember getting bitten. It felt like his arms were dying -- inch-by-inch. It felt as if he were losing his legs. It was horrifying, to feel the numbness creep up on him, to know that it might not stop.

Rodney, they’d taken him away. They’d spirited him to another room where the entire complement of Atlantis’ doctors were leaning over him, shouting and whispering and keeping him apart from the rest of them. The doctors were worried, that’s all Sheppard knew. They were very worried.

And then Keller came bustling in, looking nervous and unsure, but injecting both John and Ronon with a substance that she said would hopefully cure them. She’d examined what Winfield had given them, and cleared it for administering. When it didn’t immediately kill them, she rushed away, to try the same thing on Rodney.

The numbness stayed, and John was tired. And so he slept without really meaning to. He had strange dreams of green and purple lizards and robots with flashy lights, of stairways and factories and autumn colors and terribly lonely emptiness that ate at him until he couldn’t stand it anymore, and so he awoke.

He knew that he was in the infirmary from the instant he took his first deep breath. He knew the scents, he knew the sounds and the sights. There was the standard beeping of monitors, and the quiet clatter of tools being moved about, softly murmured voice -- but also a strange wheezing that he couldn’t identify. 

Carefully, he flexed one hand, finding he was capable of moving it, but he had very little sensation, as if he’d leaned on it for too long, as if the hand had fallen asleep. He stared, watching his hand move.

“Colonel Sheppard,” he heard a friendly voice call, and looked up to find Doctor Keller beside him. “It’s good to see you’re finally awake,” she said cheerfully.

“It's good to be awake,” he said hoarsely.

Sheppard quickly looked beyond her, searching. Ronon sat up in the next bed, watching him speculatively. “Sheppard,” Dex said as a greeting.

Teyla was in the bed beyond -- bandaged, bruised and sporting a cast. She gave him a friendly but reserved expression -- and said nothing.

Keller smiled kindly. “I see you’re able to move your hand. That’s excellent progress, Colonel.” She picked up the hand and kneaded it gently for him. “Do you have any sensation? Are you able to…”

“How is he?” Sheppard asked, not looking at her, but rather at his teammates because he knew they would tell him the truth. “Rodney? Where?”

Their expressions changed to something solemn. “Over there,” Ronon stated, pointing to the bed on the other side of Sheppard.

John turned and finally realized what the strange whooshing noise came from. 

Rodney -- Unable to breathe on his own, he was hooked up to a ventilator, along with a half dozen other monitors and devices. Sheppard stared, trying to take it in. Rodney looked utterly helpless amid all the equipment, machines that were the only things keeping him alive.

Keller cleared her throat and explained, “His organs were starting to shut down, but we were able to get to him in time. We believe we stopped the advancement of the toxin, so there’s been no further damage. It’s just that…. we haven’t seen a turnaround yet.” She walked around the bed until she was beside Rodney and she checked his monitors.

“He’d stopped breathing before I got him through the Gate,” Ronon informed solemnly. “He was struggling, then he just stopped. Didn’t know whether to set him down and start rescue breathing – or just run. I ran.”

“Which reminds me,” Keller said, not turning from the devices, “Ronon, did you really need to carry him all by yourself? He’s not light, and there were other people around. You could have found some of the Bankiers to help.”

Ronon snorted derisively.

Keller nodded, understanding, and said, “Well, I had to say something. You’re not going to be a spring chicken forever, you know.”

“Chicken?” Ronon repeated, not sounding happy at all.

“We were able to intubate him almost immediately,” Keller assured. “I believe we caught him in time.”

“How is he?” Sheppard asked softly, watching the machine that breathed for Rodney, not wanting to look at the pale, expressionless face, the hands that seemed so lifeless at his sides. The tiny bites of the deadly lizards had been bandaged and stitched, leaving him looking pockmarked and strange.

“He’s… hanging in there,” Keller said, smiling again, and Sheppard noticed the phoniness to her expression, the forced pleasantness.

“How much longer is he going to be like this?” Sheppard went on, squeezing his hands into fists and feeling more sensation with every passing moment.

Keller sighed. “You and Ronon received several bites from the creatures while you were fighting the off the skahas.”

Sheppard looked for patches on his arms and hands.

Noting his examination, Keller told him, “I guess they barely break the skin when they make their first attack on a person. They wait until their prey is immobilized to do any… real damage.” And she turned her head toward McKay as she spoke.

“Is he…okay?” Sheppard asked tentatively.

Keller looked as if she didn’t know how to answer the question. “He did receive several more bites. None were severe. They’ll heal… if…” And she shook her head as if she didn’t want to go any further. “You and Ronon were both able to recover relatively quickly because we caught it so soon.” She pointed to Sheppard’s hands. “Feeling and movement is returning, isn’t it?”

Sheppard flexed his hand and nodded.

She tried to keep her expression neutral as she said, “There’s been no progress for Rodney. The toxin was allowed to go unchecked for a very long time, and there were those extra bites.” She sounded discontent as she stared at the monitors. 

Sheppard glanced to Teyla and Ronon. Neither spoke. Both reflected the same look of helplessness that he felt.

Keller went on, quietly, the cheeriness gone from her disposition, “I’ve been able to modify the Bankiers’ medication to make it more effective. I would have hoped for some improvement by now, that he’d have some response to stimuli, but there has been no change.”

“So… maybe he’s stuck like this?” Sheppard asked.

“It’s possible,” Keller admitted, sounding quiet and small.

“A vegetable?” Sheppard spat out the word.

Keller turned sharply to face him, with a strange expression of surprise. “We don’t use that terminology, Colonel,” she said, and then sighed. “And, it’s not like that.” She pointed to one monitor where a line pulsed rapidly across the screen. “His brain activity has been quite pronounced. He’s awake right now.” Her voice took on a sadness as she went on, “He’s awake, but he just can’t hear us, can’t see us, can’t feel anything. He’s just there – in his head.”

Sheppard closed his eyes, trying to take in this information, and finding it almost beyond his comprehension. He ran his numbed hand over his forehead. Crap, Rodney, he thought. I’m so damn sorry.

From the next bed, Ronon said nothing, and Teyla sighed.

CHAPTER 15: SENSORY DEPRIVATION

Okay, this sucks.

This really really sucks.

Am I awake? I must be awake. My dreams are usually pretty weird, but they’re not like this. I mean, usually there’s stuff happening in my dreams. It’s usually not quite so… empty.

This is so damn stupid!

Okay, at least I can breathe again. Am I breathing? I hope so… I hope so. For a while there… for a while I was afraid that I wasn’t breathing, that I couldn’t breathe. I tried…but it was so hard and then… I just couldn’t. And then, things went fuzzy.

Maybe I’m not breathing? Oh, that would be bad. Can I even tell if I’m breathing?

No.

I must be. Otherwise, I’d be dead, right?

Maybe I’m dead.

Why? 

The lizards. 

Oh God! The lizards! Are they gone? They were eating me! Please… stop… please…

They must have stopped. Otherwise, I'd be dead.

Maybe I’m dead. Is this death?

Can’t be death. Can’t be! Then, what is it?

Hello? Hello? Anyone out there? Of course not, what were you expecting? But it feels kinda like... sort of like someone is near. Hello?

Not dead. I’m fairly certain I am not dead. I’m just paralyzed with that awful skaha toxin. Christ, what sort of crazy-ass lizard is that?

Being paralyzed isn’t half as bad as being dead, is it? Unless of course, they’re still eating me.

Get them off me! Get them off! Oh God... I can't... I... Help!

Wait... wait. Ronon and Sheppard came back. Of course, otherwise, I'd be dead. And if they came back, then Teyla is fine too, right?

I hope Teyla is okay. Teyla?

Nothing.

Okay, okay, keep calm. Keep calm. You're calm? Okay, let's take stock of things. Eyes. Open? No. Can’t open my eyes.

Can I smell anything? I can’t even tell if I’m breathing, how would I know if I could smell anything? Am I breathing?

It doesn’t feel as if I can feel anything. I mean, I don’t even know if I’m on my side or my stomach or my back. Is Ronon still carrying me? This is so freakin’ weird.

Can I hear? Maybe no one is talking. Hello? Hello?

Hello?

Nothing.

This so sucks. I got nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just a big hunk of brain that keeps thinking and thinking and nothing to do.

Are Sheppard and Ronon and Teyla here? Hello? 

I hope they’re okay. They have to be. Are they here? Maybe I'm not alone. Maybe...God, this is so weird.

What did they call this? I was forced to take that psychology class in school, and I learned about this… sensory deprivation? Oh yeah… that’s it. So not cool.

People freaked out when they put them in those sensory deprivation tanks, didn’t they? No sight, no sound, no senses whatsoever. Didn’t some people go stark raving mad? 

I don’t want to be crazy. Please, don’t let me be crazy.

I remember a movie they showed us about sensory deprivation. There were a lot of flowing hippie colors. Is that what this is supposed to be like?

Sort of like tie-dye.

Whatever happened to that tie-dye T-shirt that I bought at that ‘craft fair’? Now, that’s the last time I ever go to one of those on a date. What a disaster. Sure, she seemed normal in the lab, but get her into the outside world and the freak flag flies. She actually bought granola there! And something made out of hemp? Was she high? Then, she made me buy that awful tie-dye shirt from that little tiny guy – the midget.

Midget? No, that's the wrong word. Dwarf? I forget what the PC term is. He freaked me out. I couldn’t even look at him. I just grabbed the closest shirt to make her happy. It was some freaky pinkish purplish thing. She loved it. It was some super huge giant size. Didn't fit me. I drowned in that thing.

Dwarf? Little person? Short People? 

Short people got no reason, short people got no reason to live. 

Now that’s a stupid song.

They got little hands and little eyes, and they walk around tellin' great big lies. 

I wonder if that’s how Ronon thinks when he’s walking around with the rest of us – with me. Where is Ronon?

They got little noses and tiny little teeth. They wear platform shoes on their nasty little feet.

Did Ronon really call me ‘tiny’?

Well, I don't want no Short People.

I’m not tiny.

Don't want no Short People ‘round here

What was I thinking about? Oh yes, sensory deprivation!

It’s all the rage for meditation, I hear. Freaks. Oh, and with people seeking alternative medication. What’s up with that? Regular voodoo medication is bad enough. Maybe I should start putting magnets in my cloths and try rubbing crystals.

Crystals, don’t forget you were going to work on that Ancient device we found last week. The database said it was some sort of ‘map’ device, a sort of a portable GPS system to carry offworld, loaded with all sorts of useful information. If I could just get it operational again, Sheppard would never get lost again. 

Ha. Sometimes I wonder if he has any sense of direction. Sense. Sensory…

Sensory Deprivation.

Some crazy neuro-psychiatrist came up with that. Big tanks with people floating in water, feeling nothing, nothing at all. Why would someone want to do that?

The psychological community was trying to figure out what keeps the brain going. Is the energy biological or is it internal? Does the brain depend on the outside environment? If all stimuli are cut off, does the brain just sleep, or does it still work? 

Does my brain still work? Am I thinking? Am I asleep?

Sleep… it’s been so long since I’ve had a good eight hours of sleep. When was the last time? Maybe it was back on Earth, back before the expedition when you lived in that apartment with your cat and … no… no wait. Remember, after Carson died, you slept for almost 24 hours. Of course you were on Earth, with nothing to do after the funeral. Totally missed meeting up with Sheppard and Ronon. We were going to do something together – on Earth – but instead you slept. They let you and we all just ended up hanging around the hotel. I wonder why? The hotel didn't even have a pool. 

Why did you sleep so deeply? Well, you’d been awake for six days in a row… row…row.

Row row row your boat, gently down the street. Merrily, merrily, merrily life is but a dream.

Dream. Is that I’m doing? Dreaming? Pretty obnoxious dream if that were the case. I really deserve some hot girls in my dreams! Sheppard gets the hot girls, and what do I get? Damn freakin’ lizards!

They’re not still eating me, are they? Biting off bits and… I can’t do anything to save myself. No… no… no! This is a nightmare!

My dreams are so freakin' weird. I think the reality of being paralyzed and eaten by a pack of tiny lizards is kinda worse than the nightmare about the whale.

What if I start dreaming about the whale and I can’t wake up? What if it’s after me? What if I never wake up? I can’t wake up and just pet the cat. I can’t wake up and get out of bed and walk around, and look in the closet and under the bed. I can’t wake up and turn on the lights and boot up the computer (because I’d might as well work because I sure as hell won’t be falling asleep again).

I can’t get up. I can’t turn on the lights. Oh God, this sucks. This really sucks!

Don’t dream about the whale. Don’t dream about the whale. Don’t dream about the whale!

Are the lizards still here? Are they all over me?

Listen, the others wouldn’t let anything happen to you. The others came back. You’re safe. You’re safe. You must be safe. They wouldn’t let you be eaten by a pack of tiny little lizard monsters! Sheppard and Ronon and Teyla are probably here right now. Just hanging out, right? Why?

Short people got nobody to love. 

How could something so small be so damn freaky scary?

They got little baby legs and they stand so low you got to pick 'em up Just to say hello.

I really have to stop that.

What was I thinking about? Something about….Ah yes, sensory deprivation…. And… what was that scientist’s name? Lilly. Yes! John C. Lilly. Huh, I wonder why I remembered that. I’m usually so bad with names.

Lily, she was on the ‘Munsters’. Some sort of Bride of Frankenstein type thing, but her father was a vampire. How did that work out?

And there was Herman Munster. Tall guy. Sort of like Ronon that way and otherwise not like Ronon. The monster was named Herman instead of Frank. Good. So many people think the monster was named Frankenstein, but no, Frankenstein was the creator -- not the monster. Why does the scientist always get forgotten?

Mary Shelley was married to Percy Bysshe Shelley who was a poet. She wrote ‘Frankenstein’ when she was 19 years old. The theme was how modern man was overreaching, trying to achieve things that humans should have been left alone. She had something against the Industrial Revolution.

She was an idiot.

They got little cars that go beep, beep, beep. They got little voices goin' peep, peep, peep’. 

Her husband wrote girly poems and I was forced to read them in that horrible class that was absolutely pointless but necessary for graduation.

'Ozymandias' wasn’t so bad.

Two vast and trunkless legs of stone stand in the desert. Near them on the sand, half sunk, a shattered visage lies

The original title of the book was “Frankenstein, or, The Modern Prometheus”

Frankenstein… Fronkensteen

‘Young Frankenstein’ -- great movie. Loved it. There are so many terrific lines! Let’s see… ‘Roll… roll… roll in ze hay’ ‘What knockers!’ Hmmm. Ah... There must be others. Why can’t I remember them? ‘Frau Blücher!’

I never understood why horses anyways neighed every time someone said her name. Someone told me that Blücher meant 'glue' in German, but it didn't – obviously. The horses were just acting up because you can't trust them.

Never understood why anyone would want to ride a horse. Okay, it made sense for cowboys and whatnot because they didn’t have anything else, but why would anyone want to risk their lives on a daily basis, with some huge animal between their legs, letting it decide their destiny? 

And elephants. Why would anyone ride an elephant? They’ll kill you sure as look at you. And don’t get me started about people who ride killer whales in those SeaWorld shows. Whales! People who make a career out of that are definitely off their rockers. 

Mother had a rocker. She used to rock for hours and listen to classical music. She loved that music. I tried my best to learn to play, to make her happy, but it wasn’t good enough, was it? She preferred her records. You couldn’t bother her if she was in that rocker. Don’t bother trying. She was in a world of her own and you weren’t allowed in.

A world of her own.

Like you are right now… but she had music… and a rocker.

Oh God, I’m off my rocker, aren’t I?

Like those soldiers that the neuro-psychiatrist (what was his name?) put into those sensory deprivation tanks at the National Institute for Mental Health - - otherwise known as NIMN.

“The Secret of NIMH” was all about the rats. And Timothy was sick and needed to be moved to safety because the field was about to be plowed. And his mother was named Mrs. Brisbee, or was it Frisby? And the rats were super-intelligent, sort of like I was after the ascension machine, but not at all like that. And there was something about drugging a cat. Why do I remember that?

I wonder if my cat even remembers me. Sometimes I think about going to visit him when I visit Earth, but I know that he’s long forgotten me. I shouldn’t go. He has a new home. I'll be a stranger to him and he never liked strangers. It’s for the best, really. It’s the way things work. He needs to get on with his life – without me.

Remember how he used sit in the window and would wait for me to come home. He’d come running when I walked through the door, with his tail sticking straight up, and he’d meow like he meowed when he was happy. Of course, he probably only wanted food, but it was nice to have him act glad to see me.

And he’d sit right next to me when I worked at the computer, and poke me when he was hungry and dinner was late. And he’d sleep next to me to keep warm. And sometimes, when I woke up in the middle of the night because of the nightmares and such, I lift would up a hand, and he’d be right there, and I could pet him. He’d purr like he didn’t mind being awakened like that.

I miss him sometimes.

He doesn’t remember me anymore.

Remember… what was I thinking about?

NiMH could also stand for nickel-metal hydride battery. Rechargeable, the battery uses a hydrogen-absorbing alloy instead of cadmium for the negative electrode. It can have several times the capacity of a NiCd battery, but when compared to a lithium-ion battery, the volumetric energy density is lower while the self-discharge is higher.

Electricity was required to bring the monster to life.

The book, ‘Frankenstein’, begins and ends at the North Pole.

Siberia is freaking cold. I never got used to that. You’d think I’d be better at it than most, but remember that idiot who never seemed to get cold? What was that guys’s deal? Remember the time that I was working in that lab that suddenly lost power and I didn’t realize it for an hour because there was enough daylight coming through the windows to see. That guy walked in, what was his name, and said, ‘It’s cold in here.’

And I didn’t realize that my hands were getting numb …numb. I can’t feel anything.

So numb. I’m so numb.

Did I do any good while I was in Siberia? Did I make a difference to anyone?

“Look upon my works, ye mighty and despair.”

Nothing… nothing. There’s nothing here. Just me… my mind endlessly circling. Just me, all alone, except for maybe the lizards.

Wait… are the lizards still here?

No… no… oh God… Please. Don’t let them eat me. Don’t let them hurt me. 

What could be worse than this?

Could be raining.

Come on! Get back in line. What… what were you thinking about?

Sensory Deprivation! That’s it. 

It made people go crazy in the experiments. But I think they gave some of the participants LSD and…

Life Signs Detector.

Life Signs Detector.

Why did I suddenly think of that?

John Hurt was in a movie called ‘Altered States’ about sensory deprivation, but I never watched it. I wonder if Sheppard would want to see it someday. Was it a good movie? I don’t know. I think I’d rather see ‘Young Frankenstein’. Sheppard likes that one, I bet. Ronon would enjoy it. Teyla, she’d get into the spirit of it, I mean, for a movie night.

Because… that would be kind of fun.

Because, it’s kind of lonely here with only myself for company.

A fate I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Just me and nothing.

Nothing besides remains. Round the decay of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare

God, I hated that class.

The lone and level sands stretch far away

Hello? Hello? Is anyone out there? Funny, because I keep thinking, I keep feeling that someone is there.

Hello?   
888888888888888888  
By the end of the next day, Rodney was off the ventilator and breathing on his own. “Good news,” Keller had told them. “He’s making progress.”

There was still no sign that he was able to hear anything, to feel anything. Keller ran regular tests, hoping to see some reaction, but there was nothing.

She showed the team how to read the monitors so that they could tell when Rodney was sleeping, when he was dreaming, when he was awake and thinking deeply, or when the thoughts were monotonous. Maybe he was daydreaming. She showed them what it meant when different areas of the brain diagram lit up. "This is probably a nightmare," she said at one point. And they couldn’t even wake him up from it.

And they waited and watched and Sheppard felt helpless.

Teyla, John and Ronon had been released from the infirmary, but never went far. Someone always sat by Rodney’s bedside, talking to him even though the monitors told that he didn’t hear anything. They waited for the telltale blip that demonstrated increased brain activity. Sometimes he fooled them, going from a quiet scan to a lit up Christmas tree, and everyone would be happy for a moment or two, until Keller or one of her staff decided that it was just Rodney, going from asleep to awake in his dark world.

Katie Brown came often to visit, but would never stay long. She was deeply troubled by seeing Rodney so still, and tears would come to her eyes when he didn’t hear her, and she realized she wasn’t strong enough to remain.

Radek spent time with his boss and friend, sometimes just sitting beside him and talking animatedly in Czech. “He can’t hear me anyway,” he explained, “So I might as well make it easy on me.” His conversation was lively and friendly, and undoubtedly, great tales were told. Sometimes he’d just work, bringing his laptop and clattering away, using Rodney’s bed as a table.

Sam visited as well, seeming uncomfortable, as if she wasn’t quite sure how to handle McKay when he didn’t need ‘handling’. She spoke quietly to him a few times, but in the end she understood the importance of letting the Rodney’s teammates remain near. She let them stay – and gave them room.

And Rodney remained still and alone, unresponsive to any of their entreaties.

A team, headed by Sheppard, had returned to the Bankier’s planet to find out if the people had any further information about treatment for the skaha venom. Teyla, still banged up from her ride on the Giant Killer Robot, stayed behind with Rodney. Sheppard considered leaving Ronon as well, because the Satedan would glower with anger whenever that planet was mentioned, but in the end he came along – because he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Autumn had progressed in their absence. A storm had blown through the woodlands overnight and stripped most of the trees, leaving them stark and bare, winter skeletons. The floor was thick with downed leaves.

Dr. Doherty came with them, the robotics specialist, eager to see the Osoyoos. Sheppard was just as eager to ensure she never activated the thing.

The Bankiers met the group from Atlantis with open hostility. It was hard to blame them. They had invited outsiders to their home to view one of their most precious artifacts. The visit left them with one of their citizens dead and others injured, a destroyed factory, the image of their Osoyoos forever sullied, and an infestation of skahas. Viewing the destruction with a clear head, Sheppard had to admit that it was pretty extensive.

The Bankiers had their reasons for being upset. Still, they were the ones that placed the barricade and forced the outcome.

Ronon still hated them.

Doherty wanted to examine the robot, but they were denied access. Keremeos’ factory would be redesigned, using the robot as a centerpiece, and probably a bit of a tourist trap. Until the work was complete, the visitors would not be allowed in.

It was Winfield who again proved useful. His family of exterminators had taken the upper hand in the fight against the terrible lizards and had managed to destroy most if not all of the menace in the city and its underground.

“If you had not revealed their existence to us, all of my people might be dead,” Winfield told them. “Because of you, we were able to destroy the skahas before they attacked us.” It was determined that the menace had recently arrived in the Osoyoos vault – and their numbers had been nearly large enough to make an assault on the city possible.

Winfield wore more red than he used to and talked in a hushed voice about changes that would take place with the way things were managed.

He put them in touch with the Bankier medical experts who said that there was little hope for McKay. People recovered from a skaha bite if they were treated quickly. Some never regained used of their hands, arms, or legs. If a victim became unconscious from the bite, they never awoke. Some lived for a few days, some for months with medical help, but they all eventually faded away.

Ronon didn’t like the medical experts. Sheppard didn’t like them much either.

So the team from Atlantis returned, and Keller continued to ply her brand of voodoo magic, modifying what Winfield had given them, trying to bring Rodney McKay back to them.

CHAPTER 16: LEARNING TO THINK

He’d learned how to think. After too much time spent in panic, Rodney had learned how to rationalize and control the blackness around him. 

Because he was going to make it out of this. There were people who were counting on him. He could almost feel them near him.

He marshaled his thoughts and worked to calm himself down and finally decided to make good use of the time. He tried to remember his ‘new math’ and how the numbers sang to him when he composed the mathematics. He could partially refashion the melody, but so much of the harmony needed work.

He made up ways to perfect Atlantis’ energy usage, and realized how to speed up the water desalinization process. He figured out a means to increase the effectiveness of the new hyperdrive system, and planned exactly how to wire a ZPM into the jumper.

He designed a way to increase the strength of the shields on the jumpers, how to make them more efficient in the depths of the sea.

Sometimes he thought of whales and it scared the crap out of him.

Still, he missed ‘Sam’. He wondered how his leviathan friend was doing. Did Sam the Whale remember him? Did Sam wonder where they’d gone?

He wondered if he would ever be able to go back for a visit. Maybe, someday, when he could open his eyes again – maybe if he could move. Hopefully… someday. Even if it meant he’d only be able to hear and see again. Steven Hawking manages it right, right? So can I.

But it was scary as hell to consider.

He conjured a way to make the city’s shield last longer under onslaught. He planned a way of un-jamming the doors to the underwater jumper bay without needing to use a ‘dead-man’s’ switch. He considered how to get around the security system of the ‘brig’ and how to keep others from doing the same. He figured out how to ensure that he received his fair share of the coffee when it was running low.

He thought of the weapons platform and how he could have saved Grodin, and thought about ways that he could have stopped the jumper from sinking so that Griffin didn’t need to die. And with the nanovirus, he rationalized all the ways he should have been faster in deciphering the clues. And he mulled over how he’d convinced Sheppard to visit the planet with the wrecked Wraith ship – because if he hadn’t prodded, Gall and Abrams would be alive. He should have known better.

Then there was Doranda… and so many others.

If he’d only been smarter, or faster or a little less smug, so many people would still be alive.

He thought about these things often. Sometimes, it consumed him until he could think of nothing else. 

Sometimes he wondered if an emergency was happening somewhere in the city, if people were in trouble and wringing their hands wishing McKay would only wake up and jump to work to save them all. Did they need him? Did they need him right now, but he was just laying here doing nothing? 

But there were other people who could do the job, good people, people like Zelenka who’d take care of everything. They’d be fine without him, right?

It’s funny how much he missed… people. He was never the type that needed contact. And it was strange how often his thoughts drifted away from the hard facts of science. Often, he thought about doing something simple, like having lunch with his team. Because, it was always nice to be included – to walk into the room and find someone who was actually happy to see him. 

Damn it, how juvenile does that sound? What was he? A teenager? 

Still, it was something he’d missed in his youth. It was something that always made him glad when he walked into the mess hall of Atlantis, and someone was there calling his name.

He just wished he could go there right now… because this sucked. This totally sucked!

Stop this… stop this… concentrate. Get back to concentrating. You have to focus! Yes, focus!

Sometimes he imagined Atlantis in three dimensions, seeing it like a blueprint in his mind. He could spin it this way and that, and zero in on tiny details. He’d play with the diagrams for hours and hours, putting every room in place. He’d remember the position of each lab and storage room, each known bathroom and ballroom and bay. He saw how they fit together like a puzzle and he wished he knew more. He discovered gaps that way, empty spaces that might have hidden new rooms.

If he could only get out and explore them.

He kept thinking, coming up with new ideas and great improvements! He just needed to wake up, to shake off this stillness. He needed to write it all down, to record it. It would be a terrible waste if the ideas were to just die with him.

He calculated Pi, wondering how far he might be able to go. The numbers tumbled easily through his head until he was hardly thinking of them anymore, just automatically calculating – getting further and further from the decimal point until they were no longer numbers and something more like music.

Sometimes he thought about the piano and felt as if he’d made a mistake when he had given it up. But he just didn’t have the artistry required to make ‘real’ music, and he’d let that part of him whither and die, like an atrophied limb. There was no going back.

Will I ever move again? Is this it? Forever?

I don’t think… I don’t think I can do this… forever.

It won’t be! You’ll snap out of this, right? 

Hello?

He just… missed people.

He thought about Katie, and how good it was to be with her. She was pretty and sweet and intelligent and funny. And she was nice – in the good way, not the lame way. He definitely wasn’t nice, so it confused the hell out of him that she put up with him. It made him wonder if she was crazy.

He missed Radek and their interplay, their arguments, the conjectures and agreements. He was a good man. Rodney missed bouncing ideas off of the Czech, because they built so well off of each other. Now, he had so many brilliant schemes that would make Radek hop with jealousy when he woke up.

I am waking up. I will… won’t I?

He missed his sister because they were just getting to know each other again and he wondered if he'd be able to see her one more time.

He missed Carson. He missed Carson terribly and often thought about going fishing with him, and that maybe it wouldn’t have been horrible. Maybe it could’ve been nice. Maybe it would’ve been fun and Carson would have lived through that day. And sometimes whales would invade his thoughts about fishing and he’d have to stop, because the whale always always swallowed Carson instead of himself.

He thought about Elizabeth and questioned his decision, and tried to figure out how to fix it… fix her… fix everything. It must have been so hard on her, because Elizabeth was alone out there – alone as himself maybe. Alone as Ford maybe.

And he missed them all.

And he missed his team – Ronon and Teyla and Sheppard. He remembered conversations, replaying the last time they’d traveled by jumper, or assembled in the conference room, or just shared a meal. He tried to remember everything each of them had said, and how they’d looked when they’d said it. He needed to remember their voices.

Ronon? Teyla?

Sheppard?

It was kind of funny, because, even though he couldn’t hear, couldn’t see… it was almost as if… almost as if he knew they were there.

He replayed missions, not stressing the ‘bad stuff’. Focusing more on the small things that had happened along the way. Sometimes he just remembered walking somewhere with his team.

He remembered that forest on the Bankier planet, all yellow and gold and red with autumn. He remembered how the leaves crushed beneath his feet, how they floated through the sky, how they tumbled. 

Just walking through a colorful forest, scuffing up leaves. Walking with his team through the fall. He could almost hear the leaves crunching under their feet, and their voices, talking about nothing in particular.   
888888888888888888  
“Hey,” Sheppard said as he sauntered into the infirmary.

Ronon was sitting beside Rodney’s bed, leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the bed. “Hey,” he said in return.

“How’s he been?” Sheppard asked offhand as he sat down on the next bed.

Ronon shrugged, and nodded to the monitors. “Awake,” he deciphered. “Thinking about stuff.” They’d all become rather adept at reading the screens and drawing conclusions.

Sheppard checked the monitor, doing his own deciphering. Yes, Rodney was thinking of something -- something that didn’t take a lot of concentration -- something soothing. That was good. Sheppard kept watching the screen, hoping to see a sign – wanting to see anything that showed that Rodney was aware that they were there.

John’s gaze drifted down to take in Rodney’s pale, dead-looking face, and sighed. It must be maddening for Rodney, he thought, to be stuck in his own mind. Alone – so awfully alone.

Wish I could talk to you, buddy, he thought. Wish I had a way of getting into your dreams again. Too bad we couldn’t get that machine to work. It wasn’t so bad, last time, was it? I know you didn’t want me in your head, but it worked. It was good. Well, except for the whale, and the clown… and the evil me… and the part where we got chomped.

Okay, that kinda sucked, but I helped you row, didn’t I?

I wish you weren’t stuck like this. This has to be horrible for you, because it sucks for me too. It sucks to see you like this, and to know I can’t help you. I’d help you row, as long as it took to get you home.

“How long can they keep him like this?” Ronon asked, cutting into his thoughts.

“He’s holding his own… so…” Sheppard started, but stopped because he didn’t want to say anymore.

Ronon exhaled, leaning back further in his chair.

“You talk to him at all?” Sheppard asked.

“He can’t hear it,” Ronon responded, then said truthfully, “I get angry when I talk and he won’t answer.”

“I know,” Sheppard replied. “It’s not right.” He sat on the other bed and watched the monitors, and wondered what the hell was going on inside Rodney’s head.

“Never thought I’d say it…” Ronon started. “But I wish he’d speak up.”

Sheppard chuckled a little. “Yeah, who would have thought we’d miss hearing him?”

“He talks a lot,” Ronon went on.

“He has to put in a word about everything,” Sheppard included. “Can’t shut his yap.”

Ronon nodded. “He’ll answer any question.”

“I don’t think he can help it!” Sheppard smiled, missing the banter. “It’s like he’s wired that way. It’s gotten us into more trouble than I can tell you.”

“It’s got us out of fixes, too.”

“Yeah, a few times.”

Ronon shrugged, and said, “Don’t know if it’s worth the problems though. He tends to annoy the hell out of people with all that talking. Most of it doesn’t make any sense.”

Sheppard turned when something caught his eye. “Hey, did you see that?”

“What?”

“There was a spike on the monitor.” Sheppard sat forward, concentrating on the screens. They’d been rather quiet, showing that McKay was awake and possibly daydreaming. But there’d been a sudden change. Different areas had lit up on the brain image -- something to do with the emotional centers of the brain. McKay was possibly excited or annoyed.

Maybe, just maybe, he’d heard them. But they’d been fooled before.

“Rodney?” Sheppard called.

“McKay!” Ronon’s tone was sharp.

The screens continued to display the same scene – inconclusive as to whether McKay was responding to them or not.

“Sometimes I’ve thought about stunning him,” Ronon said, “When he starts talking too much.”

“But you haven’t?” Sheppard inquired. “You don’t seem to have a problem stunning me?”

Ronon chuckled. “That never gets old.”

“How come he gets away with it?” Sheppard nodded to the man who remained unmoving in the bed, as still as death. “He deserves a good stunning more than me. It sure would save us from a lot of trouble.”

The monitor continued to show activity.

“With McKay, I just figured he’d go on talking,” Ronon explained, watching the screen, too. “Wouldn’t do any good. Then we’d just end up with a stunned irritated load to carry around.”

The screen glowed and Sheppard grinned. He folded his arms over his chest and declared, “Radek has been cleaning up your laptop, Rodney. He’s gone through all your files and tried to organize them for you. He says you don’t know what you’re doing and you needed supervision. He deleted a bunch of stuff.”

The areas of the brain continued to light up.

“Miko helped,” Sheppard went on.

The graph on the monitor jumped.

Ronon smiled slightly. “They’ve run out of Jello in the mess hall. I ate the last of it.”

The activity continued.

“I ate five in one sitting,” Ronon went on. “Well, four. Threw the last one out. It was blue.”

Irritation? Annoyance? It was hard to tell, but definitely the emotional centers of the brain were illuminated.

“Oh, when Rodney wakes up, remind me,” Sheppard stated. “I wanted to get him on a new training regime.” Sheppard smiled and looked up as Teyla entered the infirmary. “He’s weaseled out of too many sessions already.”

“All this laying around isn’t doing him any good,” Ronon went on. "Probably take weeks to get him back into shape.”

“Months,” Sheppard corrected. “He needs to come jogging with me. I’ll make sure he keeps up with my pace.”

“Needs more hand-to-hand combat training,” Ronon continued. “You get him first thing in the morning, then I get him next.” He jammed a thumb toward Teyla as she approached. “Then it’s stick training with Teyla.”

Teyla smiled as she reached them. “Is he awake?”

“He’s hearing us,” Sheppard pronounced.

“Are you certain?” Teyla asked, sitting lightly on the side of Rodney’s bed as she settled the sling about her arm.

“Pretty sure,” Sheppard said. “Look, we’re pissing him off.”

Teyla frowned, but then couldn’t hide the happiness from her expression. Gently, she touched Rodney’s face with her good hand. “Rodney?” she called softly.

And the graphs on the monitors quieted slightly. The diagram of the brain became less colorful.

She frowned, preferring it the other way. “I will need to fit your training in first thing in the morning, before dawn, so you will have to factor that into your schedule. I will require at least an hour.”

And she smiled as the colors came back to the monitor. She quickly returned her gaze to Rodney’s face, and although it remained slack and still, she could imagine the aggravation that should have been there.

“It’s good to have you returning, Rodney,” she said softly. “So very good.”  
888888888888888888  
The days that followed were full of activity in the infirmary. Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon still camped out, but they brought DVDs and iPods and various recordings, constantly playing something for Rodney to hear – music, movies, TV shows (Sheppard had somehow gotten his hands on the entire Batman TV series). 

The monitors showed that Rodney listened. They waited for him to open his eyes.

They talked to him. They talked to him about everything, about nothing. They talked until they were tired of talking, but kept it up anyway.

Radek recorded an argument that had occurred between three of the scientists. He played it for Rodney, saying that it would get his blood boiling because the idiots kept drawing the wrong conclusion from some data they’d collected earlier that year. And Zelenka would snicker as he listened along, imagining Rodney’s ire.

Katie Brown, nervous and unsure, would sit by Rodney's side and read out loud from her journal. Mostly it was patient details of flora in the Pegasus Galaxy, but she’d drop her voice to a whisper when she read certain passages, and lean close to him so that no one else would hear.

Carter thought he might enjoy hearing the recorded transcripts from the SGC, and the recordings of the latest science journals, but Sheppard would turn them off once she’d gone, saying that it was dry stuff. He’d replace it with movies -- Blues Brothers, or Raising Arizona, or Young Frankenstein. He’d provide a commentary as he watched, turning up the volume to ensure that Rodney heard it all.

Teyla brought music, often meditative, but sometimes up-tempo. Once, she tried a CD from Earth, classical music, but was confused by the reaction, so she stopped.

Ronon said little, but stayed near.

Keller would shoo them all away when it had gone on for too long. “He needs to sleep!” she’d tell them, looking like a little mad hen. “I’ll let you know when he’s awake again, okay?”

And one or two would wander off, and one or two would stay to sleep in the adjoining bed.

CHAPTER 17: BETTER

Rodney felt better. Not that he was truly feeling anything in particular, but now there was a connection. He could hear!

He’d never realized how much he enjoyed hearing things. Of course, it wasn’t as good as seeing, or using his hands, but it was a hell of a lot better than nothing. 

Things were getting better.

He was getting better. He had no doubts. He just had to keep trying – keep trying. Someday he’d be able to move and type and work and be a part of the team again.

People were around him and it was good to hear them. There was a time when he’d get annoyed with people talking all the time, interrupting his important thoughts. But he’d been thinking long enough. And there always seemed to be someone nearby, filling in the darkness with sound. Didn’t they have anything better to do?

It was nice. He didn't' have to work so hard at keeping his mind active.

And when they weren’t talking, someone played movies that he knew almost by heart. He could zone out and just relax as he listened, and replayed the images that went with the words.

And sometimes there was music. Some of it too quiet and slow to hold his attention, but sometimes the music was lively and familiar. Once, someone played a concerto he’d learned in his youth and for a moment he was stunned by it, remembering every chord and every note. It filled him with a strange longing, a dreadful sadness as he recalled what he had lost. The music stopped and it wasn’t played again.

People came, they stayed, they talked, filling the blackness and he soaked it in, wanting to respond to them, wanting to put in a word or two. He yearned to interact.

He felt alive. And he felt better and he knew it was only a matter of time. It was as if someone had thrown him a lifeline.

Any moment now, he thought, any moment and I’ll be able to open my eyes again. And he tried. It was hard. His eyelids felt as if they were weighted with lead. It was hard as hell, but he tried nonetheless.   
888888888888888888  
It was late and the lights were dim in the infirmary. Sheppard was sitting in the chair beside the bed, watching “Bullitt” on the DVD player.

He was getting tired of the silence – the silence from Rodney. It hurt to see him so still, to know that he was still in there – listening now, but trapped and alone. John just wanted to talk to him -- to talk and hear a response, because it just wasn't right without McKay's snappy retorts.

It pissed him off knowing that Rodney might be lost to them, that something as stupid as a lizard bite might still be able to take him away. He hated this. He hated this situation with all of his being. What if Rodney never progressed past this point? What if this was the best they were going to expect? Sheppard refused to believe that.

It was just too unfair.

He’d miss Rodney too much. Sheppard was always a congenial man, quick to make acquaintance with people -- the freakin' life of a party. The thing was, he had few true friends. It wasn't as if people didn't try. It was as if everyone wanted to be his best pal. He was certain that a dozen or so people believed that they were just that. But few, very few people ever really attained that position.

The movie was in the middle of the big car chase, when there was no real dialog, just screeching wheels and pounding music. And Sheppard smiled slightly, enjoying the mindlessness of it. Sheppard could probably recreate the movie entirely in his sleep. 

His head nodded, telling how weary he was, but Rodney was awake, and he owed it to him to keep him entertained.

It felt, for a moment, like someone was watching him. 

Sheppard turned toward the infirmary entrance, and found it empty, then scanned the room. Claire, the night nurse, was at her desk in the next room. He could just barely see her there, flipping pages on a magazine. John frowned. He must have imagined the sensation, and turned to look at Rodney.

Amazed, tired blue eyes gazed toward him. Rodney looked at him for only a second, perhaps not even realizing that Sheppard had turned to face him, then he blinked and his gaze shifted to take in the screen on the DVD player.

Rodney!

Sheppard just watched Rodney, watching those eyes that watched the action on the screen. McKay’s face seemed to twitch a little, as if muscles were finally responding, as if maybe he was trying to smile. He blinked, as if trying to blink away a week of sleep. It was a slow motion, as if even opening his eyes took effort.

Rodney, perhaps realizing he was being observed, gazed toward Sheppard again. They just looked at each other a moment, as Sheppard tried to think of something to say. He couldn't speak. He couldn't do anything. It was if he was frozen, afraid that if he moved quickly or said something too fast, the moment would pass and Rodney would just close his eyes and go away again.

Rodney's eyes stayed open. He was trying to talk, but his mouth just wouldn’t move yet -- but that was okay.

“Bullitt,” Sheppard said. And Rodney’s eyes rolled, letting John know he was an idiot for pointing that out.

Sheppard smiled at that reaction. “Just getting to the good part,” he added, as he leaned closer and turned the screen so that Rodney could get a better look.  
888888888888888888  
Sheppard was halfway through his lunch when a lurching shape entered the mess hall.

“Rodney!” he gestured to the shuffling scientist. “Over here!”

McKay stalled for a moment, found them in the crowd, and then made his way unsteadily through the crowd to the table that Sheppard and Teyla had staked out.

“Keller let you out?” Sheppard asked as he finished his Salisbury steak. 

“Earlier this morning,” McKay responded. 

"Guess she was right," Sheppard added. "Soon as your head started working, the rest of you would perk right up."

Rodney smiled and pointed to his head. "It is my most important part," he responded and walked stiffly and seemed about to fall on his face with every step, but he made it to the table. He smiled in triumph at his accomplishment as he sunk into a chair.

“You should have told us that you were released, Rodney,” Teyla gently scolded. “Dr. Keller should have informed us at least.”

“After two weeks, she’s seen enough of you,” McKay said with a sigh. “Why else would she have banned you yesterday?”

“So you could sleep?” Sheppard reminded.

Rodney waves a hand. “Yeah, fine. But I'm done with that and she sent me to my quarters.”

Teyla told him, “One of us would have come for you, and ensured you reached your room.”

Rodney made a face and shrugged. “I could manage it.” He leaned his face on his hands as he propped elbows on the table as if it was too hard to hold up his head on his own. “And I think you’ve wasted enough time already.”

“Yeah, it was getting a bit dull in the infirmary,” Sheppard admitted. “At least we brought our own entertainment.”

“Hmmm,” McKay responded, closing his eyes. He raised one hand to rub distractedly at one of the healing bite marks on his face. He still looked fairly horrible, but at least he was moving, at least expression had returned to his face. And, at the moment, he looked tired, but content.

“Dr. Keller instructed you to stay in your room, did she not?” Teyla asked leadingly.

“I did stay in my room,” McKay responded sharply. “I stayed long enough to take a shower and change into some fresh clothing. I mean, hospital scrubs are okay for only so long. And hospital food is great, but Keller doesn’t believe in seconds. She has serious issues with coffee rationing.” He opened his eyes and considered the food on Sheppard’s tray.

“And so, instead of staying in put, you came here?” Sheppard asked.

“It was boring being alone in my room, and I was hungry.” Much too slowly, McKay moved an arm and managed to pull a biscuit from Sheppard’s tray. John raised an eyebrow in response as Ronon arrived at the table.

“Got to be quicker than that to get anything from me,” Ronon warned him as he dropped a laden tray to the table.

“Fine,” Rodney responded. “Keller says I should be 100 percent by tomorrow… or maybe the next day.”

“If you ever were 100 percent to begin with,” Sheppard taunted and Ronon snorted.

“At least I always kept my wits about me,” Rodney said, “My brain never quit. Well, it did go a little haywire for a while… but I managed after I figured out how to do it.” He chewed the biscuit. At least his mouth was in full working order.

Sheppard sighed, thinking, that must have sucked. He didn't know if he could have handled the same circumstances.

Rodney frowned, realizing that Sheppard was looking at him, and flexed his hands slowly. “Now, if I can just get THESE to work correctly for me, I can get some real work done. I have so many ideas floating around in here.” He tapped the side of his head. "And that voice recognition software kinda sucks. Do you have any idea how slow I have to talk to make it half-understand me?"

Sheppard snatched up his remaining biscuit, glad that the greedy-handed physicist hadn’t found it yet. “Yeah, you had plenty of time for thinking, didn’t you?”

“You have no idea,” Rodney responded, his voice low and distracted. “But the time was put to good use, and once I’ve had a chance to record everything that I cooked up, the city will be running more efficiently than ever, you can mark my words. So, in the long run, my 'thought tank' time was a benefit to everyone, right?”

Sheppard said nothing for a moment, watching McKay’s proud expression, yet seeing a marked sadness there, too. “You remember much about what happened?” John asked. “On the planet, with the robot and the… lizards.”

Rodney grimaced at the mention and his face went a little blank. He swallowed what biscuit was left in his mouth. “Yeah,” he said softly. 

Sheppard was about to speak, but Ronon, settling himself in his seat, broke the mood with a quick, “You owe me a new coat.”

“What?” McKay sputtered.

“You ruined my coat,” Ronon reminded.

“I had nothing to do with that!” McKay snapped. “You were the one who took it off and left it on me. It’s your fault that the little bastards ate it.”

“He’s got you there,” Sheppard put in.

“Besides, you owe ME a coat,” McKay returned.

Ronon leaned heavily on the table. “How do you figure that?”

“You promised to get one for me,” Rodney said with a smile, looking much too pleased with himself.

“You did,” Sheppard reminded the Satedan.

“I heard the promise as well,” Teyla added, smiling at Dex. “You mentioned something about finding such a coat in size ‘tiny’.”

Ronon grumbled and picked up his knife and fork as he regarded his well-filled food tray.

"And I am not tiny," McKay groused.

Sheppard nodded, repeating, "Not tiny." And Ronon rolled a shoulder and nodded in agreement.

McKay scowled at them, then exclaimed, “Hey, can someone get me something to eat?” He looked from one of his teammates to another. “Because it was a long walk here and I don’t think I could handle the tray, and Keller wouldn’t serve me any more. Ronon?”

Ronon grunted. “Sheppard can do it. I just sat down.”

“He’s already eating and you haven’t started,” McKay badgered.

Sheppard stabbed a fork into his mashed potatoes. “I’m eating,” he stated.

“Teyla’s not doing anything,” Ronon pointed out.

“Yes, but she has a broken arm,” Rodney said, gesturing to the Athosian. “How’s she supposed to manage the tray?”

Teyla smiled, and gamely pointed to the injured arm.

Ronon glared, then, grumbling, he dropped his flatware with a clatter and pushed himself up from the table. “Fine,” he mumbled and strode toward the back of the line.

“Can you get me double dessert?” McKay called after him.

Ronon grumbled all the more.

McKay smiled at the response and, once Ronon's back was turned, he reached out to pull the full tray across the table. It took a little more effort than it should have, but he managed it, and positioned it in front of himself.

Teyla and Sheppard watched with amused expressions.

“He’s going to kill you, McKay,” Sheppard told the Canadian as he started in on Ronon’s dinner.

“Nope,” Rodney replied, and then jammed a bit of Salisbury steak into his mouth. “I’m still sick, and people have to be nice to sick people. Hey, he can keep whatever he gets for me." He gestured with the fork. "Serves him right if he gets crap. Ooo! Corn bread!”

Sheppard sighed and shook his head, and hoped Rodney didn’t end up back in the infirmary when Ronon returned. After finishing his last few bites, Sheppard pushed his tray away and asked, “So, you were going to talk to your guys and find out what that robot was for.”

“Yeah.” McKay finished his mouthful before he said, “They were able to find something in the database. Seems there was an entire underground complex built at that site -- a total of thirteen rooms, linked with passageways. Apparently, the connecting hallways were sealed up at some point.”

“Thirteen rooms?” Sheppard asked. “Does that means there were thirteen of those robots down there?”

McKay nodded as he opened the lid of a Jello cup and started shoving gooey gelatin goodness. “Yup,” he said between slurps. “Thirteen clinking, clanking, clattering collections of caliginous junk, all waiting to be unearthed.”

Teyla puzzled a moment and then asked, “Why were they created?”

“Yeah, that robot seemed kind of… low tech… for our Ancient friends,” Sheppard commented.

McKay nodded as he struggled to hang onto the fork. “Yes, but, they had to start somewhere. Doherty figures that the Osoyoos and his friends are probably all very early attempts at robotics.”

“So why make them?” Sheppard asked.

Pausing between bites, McKay told them, “From what we were able to discover, they were meant to be used against the Wraith.”

“Huh,” Sheppard responded. “You don’t say?”

McKay nodded, diving into the potatoes. “The idea was, the robots were to be sent inside Hive ships to destroy the control centers and shut down the ships.”

Teyla nodded. “And because the machines are not human, they would not be affected by the Wraith stunners and could not be fed upon.”

“Yeah, fine, I got that,” Sheppard replied. “But who the hell thought that Giant Psychic Killer Robots were a good idea?”

McKay grinned. “Because, an Ancient with the proper ring, who was otherwise incapacitated by the Wraith stunners, could activate it. Someone, cocooned in the Hive could control the robot and get it to do their bidding.”

“But they never used them for this purpose,” Teyla surmised.

“Too much noise,” McKay replied, flipping a free hand near his head. “The robots worked fine if only one ring-wearer was around. That was the reason they used the rings. But you get two such people in one place and the cross-signals would drive the robots batty. Who’s going to refrain from trying to activate their salvation when you’re on a Hive ship? The robots would revert to their main programming when overloaded.”

“Which explains the smashing and destroying,” Sheppard concluded, rubbing his head.

McKay sat up and asked, “Was it cool?”

“What, the robot?” Sheppard responded, curiously.

“Yes, the robot. When it was smashing things. Was it cool?” Rodney’s eyes lit up a little as he spoke. “Because you never said, and I really wished I could have seen it.”

Sheppard gave a wry chuckle and nodded, having to admit. “Yeah, the smashing was kinda cool.” But after quick glance to Teyla, he amended the statement with, “Up until a point.”

The Athosian, smiled, forgiving him, and asked Rodney, “Why did the Ancestors create it to resemble a human? If it was purely a device for destroying a Wraith Hive, surely there are more efficient shapes.”

Rodney shrugged. “The Ancients liked to make things ‘pretty’,” he tried. “And they’re mighty proud with their own ‘humanoid’ shape…so…”

“Okay, fine,” Sheppard conceded. “If they were so pleased with it, why was that thing in the underground vault?”

McKay shrugged again as he moved onto the green beans. “The Ancients probably wanted to put them someplace out of the way, someplace where they could be unearthed again if needed. They weren’t so far down to begin with. That area floods every 500 years or so. The sediment built up. Maybe someone should tell those locals about that, huh? You know, the possibility of flooding.”

Sheppard shrugged. Not caring. “The planet was unoccupied at the time. The Ancients didn’t count on anyone finding the rings and using them as status symbols,” Sheppard figured. “Or that they’d start digging things up.”

“And they probably decided that the skahas would deter any settlement,” Teyla added.

“Yeah,” Sheppard agreed. He looked up sharply, and asked, “So, I get the part about the smashing, but why the hell did that thing grab hold of Teyla and run riot with her through the factory?”

Teyla sat back slightly at the reminder.

McKay shrugged. “One of the ring wearers probably wished he could do it,” he responded, and then looked toward Teyla with a grin. “You might have a secret admirer among the Bankiers.”

Teyla frowned and colored a little. “I believe it might have been Solly,” she muttered. “He seemed unduly interested in me during our interview.”

An enraged howl went up from somewhere near the food line. Everyone in the cafeteria froze in fear as one Satedan come barreling toward the table, set to kill, and balancing a tray filled with food and two chocolate cakes.

McKay, having devastated Ronon’s tray, turned a little pale and uttered a strangled, “He won’t really hurt me, will he?”

“We’ll see,” Sheppard responded as Ronon reached their table, slamming into it hard enough to make it skitter.

Dex smashed down the tray and snarled viciously in Rodney’s face as he yanked his own tray away from the scientist. There was little left though. With a growl, Ronon dropped the tray in front of himself, beside the other tray.

“Last time!” Ronon snapped as he took his seat again. “Last time you get away with that!”

Rodney, looking like he dodged a bullet, sighed deeply and returned to leaning his head in his hands. The four sat in silence as Ronon supped. Sheppard was content just to sit back and enjoy the quiet moment with his team. He'd missed these times. Nothing had felt right during those two awful weeks, and now...

“Say,” McKay said sleepily, “Since you have two chocolate cakes…”

Ronon growled in return. McKay looked hurt. Teyla smiled.

It was good, Sheppard decided. He’d missed this.

“Oh, come on,” McKay whined. “You’re not going to eat both of the cakes.” Ronon cupped his free hand around the bounty to protect it.

Sheppard laughed. Things couldn’t be better.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> And now... I will reveal the challenge that started this story. I asked five different people to supply me with one element of the story, and this is what I was given:
> 
> Setting: Autumn in New England. Pre, during or post industrial revolution  
> Prop (must be important to the story): A signet ring  
> Five Words: Robot, Trap, Explosion, Deadline, Spleen  
> Action (event that must occur during the story): two people running into one other full force   
> Adversary (someone/something that causes problems for our heroes): Lizards
> 
> And from that, this story was hatched. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks again


End file.
